


With a Satisfied Mind

by Lakritzwolf



Category: The Almighty Johnsons
Genre: Anders is a Ghost, Angst, But very much hurt and very little comfort, Car Accidents, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fatal car accident, Gen, Wakes & Funerals, descriptions of death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-18
Updated: 2015-12-05
Packaged: 2018-05-02 07:53:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5240528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lakritzwolf/pseuds/Lakritzwolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A heated argument. Anger, accusations and bitter resentment. A second of inattention.</p><p>Suddenly the Johnsons find themselves in a world without their brother Anders and have to cope with the loss. And Anders finds himself trapped and is forced to watch his brothers grieve while trying to find out why he can’t move on.</p><hr/><p></p><div class="center">
  <p>  <img/><br/></p>
</div>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Satisfied Mind is a song by Jeff Buckley
> 
> * * *
> 
> **Warning: Do not read this if the description of death and what happens to a body afterwards upset you. It's nothing graphic, but it might be triggering. Applies to the first two chapters.**
> 
> * * *

An argument like so many others before. Some had been worse, some only minor bickering. 

This time though it was shouting, anger, accusations and bitter resentment about being blamed for something that was not even in his powers to control. Mike had thrown him out of the bar in the end.

“And stay out!” He yelled after Anders. “And stay the fuck away from Axl and Gaia!”  
Anders, already on his way to his car, turned around. “Then tell that bitch to stay the fuck away from me! Because it sure as fuck wasn’t me showing up on her doorstep but the other way round, you shithead!”  
“Fuck off!” Mike seemed tempted to throw his towel at Anders who just gave him a bitter sneer.  
“Don’t worry, asshole! I’m on my way!” Anders took a step back. 

In his anger he forgot to look first before he took a step out from between the two parked cars.

“ANDERS!”

Flipping Mike a bird, he took another step and turned around.  
It took him a fraction of a second too long to register that Mike’s last yell hadn’t been anger.

The driver of the SUV that came hurtling around the corner never saw him. She wasn’t only speeding, but also texting.

The car hit Anders at full speed and full frontal. He was thrown through the air like a rag doll, landed on the bonnet of one of the parked cars and ended up on his back on the pavement, only three or four steps away from the door to Mike’s bar.

“Anders!” Mike dropped his towel and hurried to his side, then fell to his knees. “Shit... Anders...”

Anders was staring wide-eyed at the sky, blinking rapidly. A thin trickle of blood was coming from the left corner of his mouth. 

“Anders...” His voice shaky and reduced to a horrified whisper, Mike leaned over him and cautiously cradled Anders’s head in one hand. “Anders...”

Upon hearing Mike’s alarmed cry, the others had all stormed out of the bar, too, and all of them were now staring at Mike and Anders in horror. 

Olaf was the first to unfreeze. “Ty, call an ambulance.” Then he knelt down opposite Mike and took one of Anders’s hands. “It’s okay Anders, just stay calm...” He tightened his hold around the fingers that were limp and trembling at the same time. “The ambulance will be here any minute.”  
“Just hold on,” Mike said as well. “Hold on, Andy. Shit... hold on, it’s going to be okay...”

Anders’s eyes, still wide and more confused than anything else, slowly swivelled towards Mike’s face. He looked like a child that knows it has done something wrong but can’t understand what it was and why. Hurt, confused, afraid.

“Anders...” Mike reached out with his other hand and rested it on Anders’s cheek. It was cold and clammy. “It’s okay. Hold on. The ambulance is here any moment and they’ll take care of you. Just hold on...”

His lips twitching, Anders met Mike’s eyes. His breath was coming in short, tiny gasps that were hardly audible. 

“Anders...” Mike tried to calm his breathing. “It’ll be all right, Anders, it’ll be okay...”  
Anders’s lips twitched again. And then a whisper, rough and on a wheeze as if he was using his last bit of breath. “...Mikkel...”

Mike shook his head and swallowed. “Anders, it’s okay...”

Anders’s head slowly sank to one side.

“No...” Mike shook his head again, his voice a dead, dry whisper. “No... Anders, no...” 

He looked up, eyes wide in horror, and Olaf did the same. Then they both lowered their eyes again. 

Anders’s eyes were locked in a rigid, empty stare. His lips were parted. His face was as motionless. His eyelids as still as his chest. The fingers in Olaf’s hand had stopped trembling.

“No...” Olaf whispered. “No... god, Anders...”  
Still shaking his head, Mike took a deep, shaky breath. “Anders... Anders no... just... Anders, no, don’t do that, don’t do that please, please hold on...”

At that moment, Mike and Olaf saw an eerie light, a pale nimbus of unearthly colours, slowly rise from Anders’s chest. It hovered in the air for the duration of a heartbeat before it ascended and vanished. 

And given the scream of terror coming from the door of the bar, Axl had seen it, too. 

“ANDERS!”

He stumbled a few steps forward and almost fell down between Olaf and Mike, staring at Anders’s face. 

For a second or two, Axl stared at his brother with an expression of utter incomprehension that turned into denial, and then into a deep, bottomless despair.

“NOOO!”

It was the anguished scream of someone who just watched his brother die, a long, drawn-out howl, but it was laced with the fury of Odin who had just watched his son being killed. It brought tears to everyone’s eyes, and it sent terror into the hearts of those standing close enough, and the few onlookers that had gathered and were gawping at the scene took a few hasty steps back.

Ty now lowered himself down next to Olaf, his face so pale it was almost white, his eyes glassed over. 

Mike still had Anders’s head resting in one hand, but now he slipped that arm under his brother’s shoulders. Anders’s head lolled limply to one side and Mike adjusted his hold with a dry, rasping sob.

For a long moment all four of them just stared at Ander’s lifeless face in a shocked and stony silence.

And then Olaf reached out, his hand shaking like a leaf, and gently closed Anders’s mouth, then brushed his fingers down the still and lifeless face to close his eyes.

* * *

Anders staggered backwards and couldn’t suppress a shudder as he stared at the SUV. Fuck... that had been a close shave. He shook his head with his eyes pinched shut, then took a deep breath and straightened his jacket. 

Then he saw Olaf kneel on the ground, his back to Anders. And opposite Olaf was Mike. Both of them were staring down at someone lying on the ground between them.

And as Anders watched, he saw that all too familiar sight of the essence of a god leaving a body.

Shit. Mike and Olaf were there, so...

_Axl?_

Panicked, Anders hurried to their side. 

_Ty?_

But before he had reached them he noticed that the person lying there was wearing a grey suit. 

All of a sudden, Anders felt a cold, strange tremor in his insides and the last steps were taken only very hesitantly. Axl ran past him and fell to his knees, and Anders could hear him scream. Ty passed him by, too, and he didn’t give him any notice, either.

Coming to halt beside Mike, Anders stared down at the body in his brother’s arms. 

His body. 

_Fuck._

He was having a fucking out-of-body experience, and he had to get back there.

At that moment, he watched Olaf reach out and close the body’s mouth. Then he closed the body’s eyes.  
Anders felt a heavy coldness settle over him. This wasn’t an out-of-body experience.

He was dead.

He was fucking dead.

That was him, his own body, cradled in Mike’s arms... Mike who now suddenly emitted a hoarse sob.

“Anders... no... please, god no... I’m... Anders, I’m so sorry...”

 _Well that makes two of us..._

Anders swallowed, and wondered why he still could. He was dead. How could he possibly stand here and watch his brothers gathered around his... his... his corpse...

Strangely enough, he had expected he would feel panicked.  
He didn’t. There was only a cold, heavy feeling of resignation. There was no going back. He had seen the god leave, after all. There was no going back.  
Dead...  
But then, why was he still here and aware of it?

Another set of footfalls, and with a sound somewhere between a gasp and a sob, Gaia lowered herself down, her knees hitting the tarmac as she fell down between Axl and Olaf. Her eyes were so wide they were almost completely white.

She didn’t say a word. She just reached out with a trembling finger and touched Anders’s cheek.

And then she threw her head back and screamed. A wordless, heart-rending keen, a high-pitched ululation of grief that went on and on and on.  
Olaf clamped his arms around her and held her as tightly as she could while Gaia rocked back and forth and screamed and screamed and screamed.

Gaia, who was still Idun. Idun, who had lost her spouse, her lover, her Bragi.

It was then that Michelle came staggering out of the bar, Yggdrasil clutched in her hands. But as she knelt down between Axl and Mike and touched Anders’s temple, she could only shake her head. It was too late.

“It just happened too fast,” she whispered. “I’m sorry...”

_That shouldn’t have fucking happened at all..._

Of course not. None of this should have fucking happened. The fucking god-hunter bitch... if it weren’t for her, he’d still be with Helen, and Gaia would still be with Axl, and he would still be alive.

It was strange how easy it was to come to terms with the fact.

Well, having watched Olaf close his body’s eyes after the god had left him had helped. There was no denying it. 

Not when he listened to Gaia’s screams while Olaf was holding her with tears trickling down his cheeks, not when he watched Axl cry in helpless sobs like a child, not when he watched Ty sit there and stare at the body with empty eyes, as if he had been turned to stone.

Not when he watched and listened to Mike who was bent over the body in his arms, choking out desperate apologies while tears were dripping down his chin. He wasn’t even aware of Michelle’s hand on his back.

The sirens of the ambulance and the police cars cut through the silence.

The paramedics could do nothing anymore. 

Anders watched as his brothers reluctantly left his body. Ty had his arms around Mike who was still sobbing, and still apologizing. 

_Mikkel... that’s really not necessary, it wasn’t your fault, really... but I’d have appreciated it if you had shown a bit more consideration, all in all._

And then Axl caught sight of the woman standing next to the SUV, her phone still in her hands. She was so shocked that she hadn’t moved an inch after leaving her car. And now Axl went at her like a raging bull.

“You killed my brother you bitch! You killed my brother! I’m gonna kill you! I fucking kill you for that!!”

Two police officers were needed to restrain him. Axl was completely out of his mind.

Anders was still standing next to his body that was now covered with a white sheet. 

_Axl, that’s not helping. Really. It won’t... it won’t bring me back..._

No, it wouldn’t. He wished it could. 

_Axl, stop that madness!_

But even shouting these words at the top of his... well... lungs, didn’t make Axl hear them

Paramedics and police officers were hurrying back and forth. Taking care of his brothers, Olaf, Gaia. Taking care of the driver of the SUV who had just killed someone because of her carelessness. Anders could see two empty child car seats on the back seat.

Anders was still standing next to his body when the hearse arrived. He watched his body being packed into a body bag. 

And for some strange reason, he was compelled to follow.

He couldn’t stay with his brothers. He was, by some weird, fucked up reason, bound to his own dead body.

Sitting next to the body bag, he could catch a last glimpse of his brothers before the door was shut and the car drove off.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The dead body being prepared for the funeral. The wake and the burial. Nothing detailed or graphic, but still, please mind the triggers.
> 
> * * *

It didn’t really make much sense. Nothing made much sense anymore. And sure as fuck not this...

Now he was standing in the morgue and watched as his body was examined. It really didn’t come as a surprise that he was dead and the paramedics had been powerless to save him. His chest was shattered, oddly deformed, as if all his ribs had been broken. Which most likely was the case. The internal injuries must have been terrible... and quite fatal, obviously.

They cut the clothing off his body.

_Fuck’s sake, that’s one of my best suits!_

Not that it really mattered, not anymore.

That was his body, all right. And Anders felt more sad than anything else as he watched it, naked, bare, and so damaged beyond repair. It had been a nice body. He had liked that body. And now it wasn’t his anymore. Just a thing, really.  
Still, he was attached to it. Emotionally, and for some reason, spiritually too, or whatever the fuck this was.  
He couldn’t leave.

Not that he knew where he was supposed to go now. From what he had heard, and from common belief, whatever the fuck _that_ was, he’d have expected to see a tunnel with a white light at the end.

Nothing of the sort.

Someone came with a small paper label to hang onto one of his big toes. The body was covered again with a sheet, only the feet with that ugly little label were sticking out. Then it was wheeled away. Locked away in a compartment. 

It was probably cold in that room. He had no way of telling, and no way why he had even had that thought. The lights were switched off, and Anders was left in the darkness. Alone with his dead body. 

He had no means to measure the time. It might have been a day, or two weeks, or a month. He had no idea. But probably not a month. A few days, most likely. 

They came for his body again, and it was wheeled away, packed away onto a steel coffin. Loaded into another hearse. Anders sat in the back next to the steel coffin and wondered why he wasn’t freaking out. 

If he had imagined himself only a few days ago being a... ghost, well, that’s what he probably was now, a restless spirit without a body, he’d have panicked. The thought alone would have given him nightmares. Now he just sat here and was left wondering what the fuck was going to happen next. 

As it turned out, he was on his way to a funeral parlour. A middle aged woman signed papers and the body was transferred into a room lit with bright neon light, with tiled walls and floor and a steel table. 

The same middle aged lady then changed and equipped herself with a plastic apron and was now joined by a somewhat younger man dressed in a similar fashion. It was a small comfort to Anders when he realised that they treated his body with care and respect, despite the things they had to do to it to prepare it for the funeral. 

Apparently his family had supplied clothing for his body. He recognised his favourite black suit. A white dress shirt. A red tie. As opposed to what he was wearing right now, which was what he had worn when he had died, the grey suit, a light blue dress shirt and a grey tie. Seemed fitting, that his body was dressed so dark, and he... his ... ghost... was dressed in lighter colours. He wondered why he was even thinking it, why it mattered. Because it didn’t. 

A few last touches to his hair. Then the transfer into a proper coffin, a quick arrangement of limbs. 

It was not a disconcerting sight, actually. He looked quite peaceful there resting on that pillow. Asleep. 

_Crap, I wish I was. I want to wake up and sock Mike in the face for giving me so much shit._

Anders followed his body for another transfer, this time to the cemetery chapel. 

There were lots of flowers. Not that he particularly cared for flowers, but he guessed they were needed for the right ambience of a funeral. 

Funeral. 

His funeral. 

The casket had a partitioned lid, and the upper half remained open, and Anders had another closer look at his body. Asleep. Pale, still, and somehow waxen. No, definitely not asleep. But peaceful, as he was lying there with closed eyes, a relaxed face and his hands folded on his chest.

If only he was as peaceful as his body.

At the entrance of the chapel, he could see the funeral director shake hands with Mike who was wearing a black suit. And slowly, one after the other, his brothers came in, accompanied by girlfriends or not, and there were Stacey and Ingrid, and Zeb was there too, walking next to Axl. He saw and recognised a few of his business acquaintances. A few of his lady friends from the clubs. Even Gunderson was here, and for once, there was no snarky expression on his face.

Still, the chapel was less than half full. Well, the family wasn’t that big, and Anders was fully aware of the fact that he didn’t have many friends. Never needed any. Didn’t miss them now, to be honest. And if he was being even more honest, then he wouldn’t have expected his brothers to be mourning him like this. 

But despite that, or maybe even because, it hurt to watch the faces of his brothers. And Dawn, god, his beloved Dawn, she looked terrible. She must have been crying her eyes out ever since she had gotten the news, most likely on the day of his death. 

_Dawnsie, please don’t cry..._

She didn’t hear him, of course. 

There wasn’t much of a service, which was entirely in Anders’s spirit. There wasn’t any need for pious songs and sermons. Then Mike got up and attempted something of a eulogy, but his voice broke ever so often, and in the end, he just covered his face with his hands and gave up. It was Gunderson, of all people, who got up then and positioned himself next to the coffin, and he had enough wits and presence of mind to actually give a speech. Actually saying something nice about him.

Praising his skills which with he had made JPR what it was. His enthusiasm and professionalism. He also talked about his qualities as a friend and brother. A bit unconventional, he called him. 

_Another word for being a prick, Gunderson. But it’s nicely put. Only say good things about the dead, right?_

Up until now, Anders had taken being dead with a more or less fatalistic attitude, feeling hardly anything. Being more or less indifferent to the fate of his body. But now the realisation sunk in, about the consequences his demise had on his family. 

They played [_Brothers in Arms_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jhdFe3evXpk) at the end, as they filed past his coffin on the way out.

Axl and Gaia were clinging to each other like frightened children as they passed his coffin to make their final farewells. Neither of them was able to say a word, but both of them were crying.

_Axl, my baby brother, please stop crying..._

His throat constricted, despite the fact that he technically didn’t have one anymore. Apparently his soul, or spirit, or whatever he was now, retained enough of a memory of a body that to him, it still felt as if he had one.

Ingrid was hiding her face in a handkerchief as she passed him by, and her choked farewells were hardly recognisable as words. Stacey passed him by with a stony face, cheeks wet with tears. 

“Bye Anders...”

_Bye Stacey..._

Olaf was next, and he was constantly wiping his face with a tissue. 

“Farewell, Anders. It’s not fair. It just isn’t fair...”

_Bye grandpa. Life is seldom fair, and you know that._

By now Anders was silently crying as well. He felt the tears burn in his eyes and on his cheeks. They never hit the ground. How could they?

Ty was shedding his tears in utter silence, his face was pale and unmoving. He just shook his head while Dawn, who was clinging to his arm, was sobbing uncontrollably now. 

_Oh Dawnsie... I wish there was something I could do..._

He wiped his face. Seeing Dawn like this broke his heart.

Mike was the last of his family to step towards the coffin. He was crying in hoarse sobs, tears running down his face and dripping down his chin.

“I’m so sorry, Andy.” His voice was hardly recognisable, it was just a hoarse rasping whisper. “I’m so sorry... I didn’t mean for that to happen. I am so sorry... Andy I just want you back... I wish it had been me...”

_God, Mikkel don’t do that..._

Anders wiped both hands down his face.

And then Mike reached out and rested a hand on the cold and lifeless cheek of Anders’s body. 

_Mikkel don’t..._

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again. “I’m so sorry, Andy. Sleep well, brother. I’ll miss you.” He kissed Anders’s forehead before straightening up.

_Mikkel..._

Anders shook his head, tears clouding his vision again. 

They all paid their final respects, filing past the coffin one by one, some with tears, some not, but all with grief-stricken faces. 

Anders watched them, every single one.  
God, it hurt. It hurt to see them all like that. Nothing that had happened to him and his body had really affected him, but to watch his brothers so lost in grief and mourning was almost more than he could handle. He wiped the back of his hands across his face. 

He couldn’t have imagined that his brothers would grieve his passing like that. He had thought they didn’t care. Apparently, he was wrong.

In the end, Anders was left alone. The coffin was closed. Closed forever. That was the last he had ever looked at himself. 

Anders wiped his eyes again. 

_Bye..._  
_You were a really nice body. I’ll miss you._

Again, Anders wondered what would happen next. Technically he should be buried now, but instead the coffin was just sent on its way again.

It was a strange and painful relief to see that his brothers had honoured his wish and his body was now being cremated. He hadn’t been able to stand the thought of his body being eaten by worms, even if he wouldn’t be there to feel it. And while he wouldn’t feel it now, the ‘not being there anymore’ part was... definitely not what he had imagined.

Not that he was keen on being present when that happened, but he didn’t have a choice. Well, he didn’t have to look. Hearing it was bad enough.

There was one last surge of pain when he realised how little was left of him now. Just a few handful of ash. That was all that was left of Anders Johnson now. A handful of ash.

This time he followed the urn that held his ashes, and again, Anders had no means to tell how much time had passed between the funeral service and the actual burial. 

The sun was shining, a few white wispy clouds hung in the sky and there were birds in the trees. It seemed strangely unreal. Somehow, Anders had imagined burials were supposed to take place on bleak, grey and rainy days. Anders himself was put to his final rest on a day that was as beautiful as you please.

Standing next to the open grave Anders watched them go. Mike was the last to leave, and he cast another last look over his shoulder at the grave.

Anders was left alone.

The grave was filled.

Night fell.

Anders sat down and pulled up his knees, slung his arms around them and dropped his head. He had never felt so alone before.

He had never been so alone.

* * *

__  
Now the sun's gone to hell and  
The moon riding high  
Let me bid you farewell  
Every man has to die  
But it's written in the starlight  
And every line in your palm  
We are fools to make war  
On our brothers in arms 


	3. Chapter 3

In the beginning Anders counted the days, but he quickly lost track of time. Then they put up a stone. Black, and with no more inscription than

  
Anders Johnson  
1976 – 2013  


He got a lot of visitors, though. Olaf came with Ingrid, and they brought a few flowers. Dawn and Ty came, still wearing black, and they brought flowers too. Stacey passed by a few times, looking as if she came straight from work and just popped by to say hello.

Axl and Gaia came, too. They had their arms around each other and stared at the gravestone, tears on their cheeks. 

Anders watched them, and suddenly had a strange feeling or premonition. 

_Here. Axl. Gaia. It’s probably not going to happen anytime soon, but you gotta sort yourselves out. I know things were pretty fucked up in the end, and fuck... I would have a bit of a bad conscience too if I was you. But you need to live your lives, you know? Don’t stay together because of a weird feeling of guilt, like... Anders died for this, or some shit. Because I didn’t. And even if I had, I wouldn’t want this._

Gaia buried her face into Axl’s shoulder, and Axl tightened his hold around her.

_I mean if you love each other, then by all means. But that’s something different. But don’t make your lives miserable with holding on to each other out of guilt. Mike and Val did that, and it ruined the better part of their lives. Don’t do that, kids. Life is better than that._

Neither of the two said a word, and he watched them go as they left. 

Anders watched the flowers wilt and being taken away. The weather changed, and it felt strange sitting there with his back against the gravestone and watch the rain fall right through him. It didn’t really make much sense. He could feel nothing, not the wind and not the rain, and whenever he tried to touch something, his hand passed right through it. But the ground under him felt solid, and he could lean his back against the gravestone without being able to feel the carved letters when he touched them with his hands.

At one point his grave was visited by a couple he didn’t know. The woman seemed familiar, though, and eventually Anders realised that it was her who had run him over. She looked like a zombie.  
Most likely, she would be a probationer now, and Anders just hoped she wouldn’t have to go to jail. No amount of punishment would change anything for him or the rest of the world and she knew perfectly well what she had done. Most likely she would never have a good night’s sleep again, or at least not for a good long while.

Looking at them, Anders had the feeling that their marriage wouldn’t survive this. And she probably wouldn’t get custody for the two children whose car seats Anders had seen either.

Night fell again shortly after they had left. Anders leaned back and started counting the stars.

* * *

Anders felt the earthquakes and wondered if this was Ragnarok, the end of the world, and if he would see his brothers again. Or they, him. If they would all be together again.

But Ragnarok never came. 

Anders guessed it had been two weeks after his funeral that Mike came to visit his grave for the first time.

He looked as if he had aged ten years during those weeks. He walked with heavy steps and drooping shoulders, and the wrinkles around his eyes were deeply carved valleys now, the same with the lines around his mouth. He lowered himself down and sat cross-legged in front of the stone. 

Then he looked left and right, as if to check that no one was there to see him. “Hey, Andy,” he said.

_Come on, Mike, you stopped calling me that when I was twelve._

Then Mike looked around again before he reached into his jacket to produce... a bottle of vodka. Anders’s favourite brand, no less.

“I know you’re not really into flowers, so I brought you a drink.” He unscrewed the top and took a small sip, then poured out a generous measure into the grass close to the stone.

_Thanks, Mikkel. Much appreciated. I really could use that drink right now._

Mike leaned back and took another small sip. “We managed to stop Ragnarok, you know. We got Odin and Frigg together, and the gods have fucked off. For good. Now we’re left to pick up the pieces those fuckers left us with.”

_Oh. Right. The Everyone-Forgetting-Us business. Fuck. How did that pan out?_

“It’s not really easy, but you know... After all, Dawn eventually remembered something about Ty back then and well... turns out it’s only temporary, but it’s slow to come back. But a bar is a bar, no matter the landlord, so I don’t have any trouble. Ty’s boss is an ex-goddess herself, though she had some troubles adjusting. Not too bad, though. And Dawn is running JPR now, just like you asked her to in your will. She’s taking courses now, as well. She means business, our Dawn.”

_I wish I could ask you to tell her how proud I am of her._

“Other than that...” Mike poured more vodka on Anders’s grave. “Life isn’t the same without you, Andy. I know you’d probably laugh at this, you know... I just didn’t know what you meant to me until it was too late...” His voice broke, but he didn’t make any attempt to hold back his tears. “Fuck, Andy... I know I was angry at you for the thing with Val, but really... after fifteen years I should’ve gotten over myself and now... now it’s too late.” He wiped a hand across his face. “Why did it have to be like this? Why did I have to give you such a hard time even after all those years?”

_Yeah, that’s what I’d like to know as well... though it doesn’t really make a difference anymore now, does it?_

“The truth is, I blamed you, Andy. I was blaming you for fucking it up. It wasn’t before Rob woke up and Val immediately ditched me for him that I realised you had been right all along. And I couldn’t admit that. Not even to myself. It was a dick move, Andy. But your intention wasn’t to piss me off. And the worst part of it is that you were right. Right all along. It was bad conscience and not love.”

_Tell Axl and Gaia that, will you? I think they may be making the same mistake._

“Maybe I need to have a talk with Axl and Gaia.” Mike wiped his face again and took a small sip of vodka. “So they don’t make the same mistake as we did.”

Mike fell silent and stared at the gravestone with tears running down his cheeks. 

“Brother,” he finally whispered. “You were my brother, Andy. The first time I held you, you were three days old. Three fucking days, Andy. You were tiny, even to me as a fucking stupid seven year old kid. And it all went to shit. I fucked it up so bad...” He broke off again with a hoarse sob. “Shit, Anders, I... I’m so fucking sorry... I just can’t believe I let that happen. As if it had been your fault that mum and dad fucked off. And Rob... it was my fault, Andy. It was because of me. It was because I owned that pool table and couldn’t stop being a dick about it that Rob ended up in that coma. I was angry and hurt... and I blamed it all on you when you tried to tell me that me and Val was a shit idea.” He wiped a sleeve across his cheek and poured more vodka for Anders.

Anders wiped his face as well. True, he had been pissed off more often than not at his older brother but this...

“If I could go back in time... but that’s fucking pathetic, isn’t it? I can’t. I can’t go back and be less of an asshole. I can’t go back and keep my head on when that Idun shit happened. As if that had been your fault!” He wiped his face again with the back of his hand. “I’m so fucking sorry, Andy...”

_Glad you finally acknowledge it Mike, but..._

“You’re probably rubbing your hands now saying Told You So.”

_No, I’m not, you know._

“But maybe you aren’t. You know, that makes it even worse. No matter how much shit you got, no matter how angry you were when we were done shouting at each other... you never left. You never truly left. And I just took it for granted. I’m so fucking sorry...” Mike poured more vodka. The bottle was almost empty now.

“I miss you, Andy.” Mike shook his head, tears falling from his chin. “I miss you every single fucking day. Life isn’t the same without you.” He smiled at the gravestone, but it was a smile that broke Anders’s heart. “I would cut off all my limbs to get you back, you know?”

_I hope it never comes to that, Mikkel._

Anders swallowed and wiped his tears away.

_I don’t want to see you like this. Life goes on, you know. You need to get over me at one point._

With a heavy sigh, Mike looked at the vodka and the last sip that was left. “Here’s to you, brother.” He leaned forward and touched the gravestone with the bottom of the bottle before he knocked it back. Then he stowed the empty bottle away into his jacket again before getting up.

“Bye, Andy. I hope you’re at peace.”

_No, actually I’m not, but I’m somehow glad you don’t know about that, and never will._

With one last, heavy sigh, Mike wiped his face again and turned around.

_Don’t go, Mike..._

Mike cast another last glance over his shoulder.

_Don’t leave me alone, Mike, please..._

Of course that was nonsense. But even the illusion of having a conversation had made him aware of how terribly lonely he was. It hurt more than he ever thought it would.

_Mike! Mikkel, don’t go!_

He got up and reached for his brother, but Mike was slowly walking away.

Anders had no idea what happened. How and why. One moment, he was standing next to his gravestone as if he was glued to it, and then suddenly he was running after his brother. He turned around and looked at the grave. 

Then he followed Mike, relieved beyond means to express it that finally, he was at least able to leave the graveyard. 

Mike fell into his car with a rusty sob. Anders wanted to join him, but of course, he couldn’t open the door. Then he frowned. And then he took a deep breath. And finally he just slid through the door and sat down in the passenger seat. He still didn’t get it. He could walk through the door, but he could sit down. 

Mike wiped his eyes and started the engine.

_You shouldn’t be driving like that, Mike. Really, calm down a little first. Don’t make it worse with running someone over yourself because you didn’t see a red light._

Mike killed the engine again and let his head fall onto the steering wheel. After a few more sobs he straightened up again and reached for the glove compartment – his hand going right through Anders – and fumbled around for a few tissues to wipe his eyes and blow his nose. Somewhat calmed, he started the car again and pulled out of the parking lot.

And so Anders ended up back in Mike’s bar. After two weeks, he had finally been able to tear himself away from his mortal remains and his grave. But apparently, he wasn’t compelled to follow Mike like he had followed his own body. And thank god for that, that would have been fucking awkward, being forced to stand next to the bed when Mike and Michelle played the game of the animal with two backs.

He sat down on a barstool and tried to stop wondering why some things worked for him and some things didn’t. There was a glass of vodka sitting on the bar, directly next to the taps. Anders tried to pick it up, knowing full well he wouldn’t be able to. He even stuck his finger into the glass, but felt nothing, and not the slightest stir in the liquid showed a hint of his presence. 

So it still seemed as if he was trapped here. But at least now he was trapped in a bar and no longer condemned to eternal boredom. 

Maybe he could learn how to haunt the place. It might increase business. 

Anders smiled a little crookedly to himself.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He may be dead, but Anders is still Anders.

Anders needed no more than two days to realise that the glass of vodka next to the taps and the empty chair were a permanent feature. And it was on a busy Friday night that he found out why.

The tables were filled, and the last two guys coming in settled down at the bar. Eventually, one of them meant to pull the bar stool over which Anders was sitting on.

“Don’t do that, please. That’s taken.” Mike put two beers down for him and his mate.  
“I haven’t seen anyone sit there for an hour or so!”  
“Just leave it.” Mike gave him his no-nonsense look.  
“But whose place is it, for fuck’s sake?”  
Mike put his towel down. “It’s my brother’s.”

Anders swallowed and stared at the glass.

“But he’s not here?”  
“He’s dead, you dick!” Mike picked the towel up again. “He was run over by a car a month ago, right in front of the bar here. Died on the pavement next to the door.”

The two guys exchanged a shocked and dismayed look.

“Sorry mate... like... sorry. Shit, that’s...”  
“Yeah.” Mike busied himself with polishing glasses. 

_Mikkel, come on, let him have the chair. I appreciate the gesture, but really, that’s not necessary._

Mike looked at the glass with a sigh. Eventually, he said: “It’s okay. Take the chair, but put it back there. And don’t touch the drink.”

When the two guys left, about an hour later, one of them put the barstool back into place and placed a bill next to the glass.

“What’s that for?” Mike looked up at him.  
“Oh...” He rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. “Thought I’d stand him a drink, you know.”  
A small, sad smile appeared on Mike’s face. “Thanks, mate.”

The exchange hadn’t gone unnoticed, of course. And pretty soon, the thing had turned into a ritual. Ever so often, one of the regulars would pay for a shot of vodka. The glass on the bar was never empty.

Anders was touched by the gesture. Strangers, who had never known him, who had never even heard of him, just showing some small kindness.  
Mike was never again forced to tell anyone to keep away from the chair and the glass. The regulars did that themselves, telling everyone wondering about the empty chair and the shot of vodka about the landlord’s deceased brother. 

“That’s Anders’s place,” one of them would say. Pretty soon it was an established if unspoken law that this chair was not to be touched. 

Anders sat on the chair and stared at the glass. There was always a vodka, just waiting for him to come back. Only, he wouldn’t. He wondered what kind of comfort it gave to Mike to do this. Just pretending for a few seconds every now and then that he would indeed be back at some point. 

He pretended to close his fingers around the glass. He couldn’t even remember the taste of vodka.

* * *

Anders spent his nights alone on the bench at the corner table, his legs drawn up and his back against the wall. More often than not, Mike would sit at the bar in the darkness, only with a single candle lit on the bar, next to Anders’s chair with a drink of his own.  
Sometimes, Michelle would join him. They would end up with her on his lap, arms around each other, while Mike was crying into her shoulder.

Anders watched, his own tear running freely, and wished there was anything he could do. 

Michelle would then take Mike’s hand at one point, blow out the candle, and lead him upstairs. And she would use her body to give his brother the only comfort he could get, for a few seconds forgetting about everything.

* * *

Sometimes, all the Johnsons would come to the bar and stay late, long after closing time. Mike switched off some of the lights, and they would sit around one of the tables, talking in low voices. Mostly, they talked about Anders.

And mostly, especially when they remembered something that made them laugh, they would have tears in their eyes.

On one of those evenings, Anders decided to follow Ty. He could leave the bar, no problem there. But instead of going home, Ty drove another, very familiar route. He stopped by Anders’s old flat and let himself in. Anders followed.

The place was empty. No more furniture. No more pictures. Anders wondered briefly who had gotten his kitchen appliances since they were Kitchen Aid and pretty expensive, but then his eyes fell on the fish tank.

It was empty. 

It hurt to look at it. There was nothing left, the tank was dry and empty and clean. No more fish, no water, no plants. His buddies were gone.  
Anders stared at the empty fish tank with tears in his eyes. He followed Ty again as the latter left, and stared at his brother in silence on their way home.

Dawn was making dinner and greeted Ty with a warm hug and a kiss. Anders watched them and yearned for a hug himself. Just the simple comfort of human touch. It was something forever lost to him. Another thing he had never realised to be so precious before he had lost it. 

He had a walk around the living room when he saw it. There, at the far wall, on the large sideboard with books and DVDs, was a large fish tank, lovingly decorated with plants and a little castle and a shipwreck. Anders found he could smile a little as he lowered his face closer to the glass wall.

_Hey buddy. I see you found a new home._

Somehow he felt bad that he had just assumed Ty and Dawn would let his babies die. Of course they had taken care of them.

Anders left them to their dinner and let himself out by means of walking through the door. For a moment he stood there, looking left and right, and then just began to walk. He didn’t have a goal in mind.

Ambling aimlessly through the streets of the nightly Auckland, Anders looked around as he walked through the city that was, or had been, his home. Well technically it was probably still his home.

His way led him to Cornwall Park and he sat down on the stone stairs beneath the obelisk on One Tree Hill and stared down at the colourful lights that had once meant home to him. Now it only made him sad. He wasn’t a part of it anymore. 

He was reminded again and again of what he had lost as he made his way back to Mike’s bar. People walked right through him. He was invisible, inaudible, insubstantial. He might as well not be here at all, and yet, he was.

Anders didn’t know what made him do it. A strange feeling of premonition, not unlike the one he had felt when he had worried about Axl and Gaia, or the surety about the marriage of the woman who had killed him. He looked up, and saw a young woman stand on a windowsill.

_Fuck..._

He’d never make it up there in time. He started running anyway, because he had to try. He had to. Remembering his conversation with Mike and how he had seemingly understood what Anders had said, most likely on a subconscious level, but still, gave him the hope he might stop her. If he could reach her in time.

And suddenly he felt a strange, vertiginous sensation, as if something pulled him forward or down, and before he had a chance to process what was happening, he was standing at the window, looking out. For a few seconds he just stood there, trying to calm his breathing, and waited for his mind to catch up.

Well... if he had ever wondered what a spider felt when it was vacuumed up, this would probably be it. He shook his head and had a look around. He could hear her cry and looked up at her.

_Look. Don’t do that. Whatever it is that’s plaguing you, it’s not worth losing your life over. Whatever it is, you can figure it out. Maybe there isn’t a solution to every problem, but sometimes you just gotta accept shit happens and try to move on._

She clung to the window frame with both hands and stared down.

_Life is precious, and believe me, I know what I’m talking about. You only have that one go. Once it’s curtains, it’s over. No second chances. No chance to fix anything. As long as you’re alive, babe, there’s hope._

He didn’t even know what made him do it. He wasn’t the caring selfless kind, at least, not while he had still been alive. Maybe being dead changed your outlook on being alive. He just felt the burning urge to stop her from killing herself.

The young woman gulped down a deep breath and shuddered. Her grip on the window frame tightened.

_Just come back, babe. You can figure this out. And even if you can’t and have to deal with some serious shit, life goes on. And if it’s some serious shit, it can only get better, right? Come on, babe. You don’t want this. You don’t want to die._

And with another soft sob, she turned away and slowly, climbed back in, only to immediately collapse below the window where she curled up into a ball and sobbed. Anders lowered himself down next to her and wished he could have hugged her, or at least patted her shoulder.

_It’s okay, babe. You should call someone. Maybe your mum? You should definitely call your mum._

After a long moment, the woman began to uncurl and, still sobbing, crawled over to the bed. With trembling hands she dug into a bag and produced a phone, and with still trembling hands, she dialled a number.

“Hi... Hi mum. It’s... It’s Sarah... can... can you come over? Please?”

Feeling a strange mix of relief and satisfaction, Anders left her then, confident that she could figure this out. 

It felt weird. He had saved her life. He was pretty sure of it. She hadn’t heard him, but somehow his words had reached her anyway. She was still alive. 

For the first time in weeks, Anders was able to smile again.

And then he remember that strange thing that had happened which had let him reach the young woman in time. He had no fucking clue how he had done it. And now, he tried again.

He thought of Ty. Closed his eyes and focussed really hard. He took one step, and then another, and suddenly there was that vertiginous sensation again pulling him forward. 

And when he opened his eyes, he found himself in Ty’s and Dawn’s living room, just perfectly timed with Ty sitting on the couch and Dawn kneeling before him giving him a blow job.

_Oh for fuck’s sake..._

Anders spun around. That wasn’t something he had wanted to see. And it was something he definitely never wanted to see again. Behind him, he could Ty whisper soft encouragements, his voice ragged and his breathing heavy and fast.  
Anders couldn’t even begin to describe how jealous he was at that moment.

_Oh what the fuck._

He turned his head, just a little, and cast a quick glance at Dawn from the corner of his eyes.

_Try teabagging, Dawnsie. That’ll get him off in ten seconds flat, I’m sure._

“Dawn, oh god.... oh my god...”

_You’re welcome._

Grinning to himself, Anders headed for the door.

* * *

Not knowing what else to do, Anders headed back to Mike’s bar. He reached it with the first grey light of dawn, but when he walked in, he found Mike sitting at the bar slumped over an empty glass.

_Mike... I think you need help. This is eating you up. It’s killing you if you’re not careful._

He slowly sat down on the empty chair beside him, his chair, the one that no one else ever sat on.

_Mikkel..._

Mike took the bottle in front of him and refilled Anders’s glass.

“You know, sometimes I think I can’t go on like this any longer. It hurts too much. I can’t stop believing that it all was my fault, somehow. Sometimes I just... sometimes I just want to end it.”

_Don’t you dare, Mikkel! Don’t you fucking dare! I don’t want you dead, and what the fuck do you think will happen to the others if you check out on them as well? You all need each other, I know that sounds a little vain maybe, but I can see it, I’m neither blind nor stupid. You all lost a brother, and don’t you dare make Ty and Axl lose another one. Go to Ty, for fuck’s sake, and talk to him. Stop bottling it all in. Let them help you, Mike!_

Later that day, Anders could listen to Mike call his brother, and when Ty came over, both of them sat down at the table in the corner. Their beers were standing untouched on the table before them while Mike talked, and in the end Ty just held him while his brother went utterly to pieces in his arms.

Anders watched them with tears in his eyes.


	5. Chapter 5

Anders would really have liked to try out the teleporting thing again, or whatever it was that he was doing, but after his experience with Ty and Dawn he felt a little reluctant to do so.

Apart from that, this thing only seemed to work on his brothers. Ingrid and Stacey produced no such tug, neither did Gunderson. He had tried, but if it weren’t his brothers, it only worked if the target was in line of sight. I didn’t even work on Dawn, who he had then visited by the old-fashioned means of going to JPR to see how she was doing.

She seemed to be doing well. There was a young woman sitting at her hold desk, and Dawn herself was sitting on the chair that had once been Anders’s. She was busily leafing through a stack of papers while talking with her new PA about a contract. 

And behind her on the wall, aligned with the coloured squares, was a photograph; a black-and-white portrait of Anders, framed in black. 

_I’m not looking over your shoulder, you know, Dawnsie. You’re doing a splendid job and I’m proud of you._

Dawn slowly lowered the paper and her eyes unfocussed for a moment. 

“No, I don’t think so,” she said to her PA. “It’s not as if we ever agreed about much, but Anders would never have said yes to those terms to end up with his back against the wall.”  
“So the answer is no?”  
“If they insist on these terms, it is.”

_That’s my girl._

He left again, his spirits lifted somewhat in the knowledge that Dawn could and would cope and do a splendid job of keeping JPR running. 

He briefly wondered where he should go but decided it didn’t matter, so he just kept on walking aimlessly through the streets of Auckland, watched the people at Mission Bay Beach, in Albert Park or in Cornwall Park, or he just walked around watching people go shopping, drinking coffee, chatting, and in general being alive. And none of them were aware of how lucky they were.

It got dark and started to rain again, but Anders couldn’t care less. He didn’t get wet. He walked, through a part of the city that he had never seen on foot, through the industrial estate around Mt Smart Stadium. There wasn’t a single soul around, which wasn’t really surprising in an industrial estate at night, and Anders just had a look at stacks of tyres and rusty car parts when he heard the sound.

A tiny whimpering, a soft, high-pitched whine that came from around the corner of the building he had just passed. Anders hurried back around the corner and while he could still hear it, he couldn’t see anything. Then he heard it again, and when he followed the sound, and bent down, he found a kitten stuck in a drainpipe.

_Fuck._

It was so small and wet and miserable, and completely stuck. The rain washed down on it through the pipe, and the tiny mewls were interspersed with blubbering sounds now.

_Shit.... shit shit shit...._

Not that Anders was a cat person. Not that he would care about kittens in general. But this was a tiny living being condemned to death if he couldn’t find a way to save it.

His insides were running cold when he ran back towards the main street. There was no one in sight. No pedestrian, no car. He ran into the other direction, but there was no one either. 

_Right, I’m a ghost, but there are ghosts who can move things, right? Spooky things, levitating furniture and shit. I can do that. I have to do that._

He had no clue how to do it, but he had to figure it out. He almost panicked when he reached the drain pipe again and he couldn’t hear the kitten anymore.

And then he felt something rub against his ankle. He looked down, and the kitten looked up with a sound like a tiny _Mirp._

_Hey there buddy... glad you made it out there..._

And then he realised that he had felt the kitten touch him. He swallowed hard and, slowly and reluctantly, cast a look at the drainpipe again.

He staggered a step back and fell against the wall, then slid slowly down until he was sitting on the hard tarmac. The kitten followed him, rubbed itself against his leg, and Anders burst into tears.

_God, you little thing, I’m so sorry... I’m so fucking sorry... I meant to help you, I wanted to get you out of there, I really did..._

He wiped a hand across his face. The kitten seemed rather unfazed by the fact it was dead. It just purred as it climbed into Anders’s lap and kept purring after it had curled up.

_Jesus, I’m so sorry..._

Anders closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the concrete wall. His fingers found their way into the soft fur of their own accord. It was the first living being – well, living only for a given value of, but still – that he had been able to touch. The purring presence of the kitten in his lap filled a deep, aching void inside him that he had felt ever since his funeral.

Crying in helpless sobs that no one could hear Anders remained there on the ground, in a puddle of dirty water that he didn’t feel, his fingers carding through the soft, fuzzy fur of the kitten purring in his lap.

Eventually, though, he began to calm down. The kitten lifted its head and looked at him.

_I’m really sorry, buddy._

The kitten butted its head into Anders’s stomach and got up, arched its back, and hopped down. It stretched its hind legs and, after another look at Anders, walked away, tail pointing upward. After a few steps, it vanished into thin air.

_Bye. Bye, and thanks for comforting me._

Anders got up again. So maybe the kitten wasn’t really bothered about its death, but Anders was, and it hardened his resolve to find out how to move things. And if he would turn into a fucking poltergeist because of it... he never ever wanted to feel that helpless again.

* * *

Using his Hoover Teleporter, as he called it, he made his way back to Mike and Mike’s bar, to find his brother clean the counter and the glasses.

_Not going to sleep again tonight, right?_

He didn’t need Mike’s answer to know he was right. The pallor of Mike’s face and the dark shadows under his eyes were an answer in itself.  
But eventually, after Michelle had called him twice, Mike left the bar and, after switching off the lights, headed upstairs. Only the single candle on the bar was still burning.

_I hope that’s not going to turn into a fire hazard, Mikkel. Had quite enough of those lately, I presume._

On a whim, Anders leaned forward and tried to blow the candle out. Nothing happened, of course. Anders tried to pick up his glass. Again, his fingers went right through it. He tried again, and again, and again. He thought of the kitten, its life snuffed out hardly after it had begun, and he tried again, growing more and more angry and frustrated with every futile attempt.

In the end he gave up again, and retreated into his corner where he pulled up his legs and slung his arms around his knees.

* * *

Anders uncurled himself again shortly after dawn and simply went back to the counter and tried again. Desperation had been replaced by stubbornness now and he spent the whole day trying to pick up the glass, right up until opening time and the arrival of the first patrons of that evening.

But eventually, even his stubbornness wore off and he settled back in his corner, so angry and frustrated that he would have liked to scream and kick chairs and tables into splinters.

He needed to get out of here. Even watching Ty and Dawn have sex would be preferable at the moment. Anders left the bar, but instead of his brother Ty he thought of someone he hadn’t seen in a while.

Apparently it worked, as he ended up on a beach, next to a small fire. Olaf was sitting next to that fire with a hookah, staring at the stars, and whatever it was that he was smoking, it wasn’t just tobacco. The smoke was thick and oily, almost blue, and Olaf had a calm and relaxed expression with a small and gentle smile on his face.

Anders settled down cross legged next to the fire, facing him.

_Hey, grandpa._

“Hey, Anders. Long time, no see.”

Anders blinked in confusion.

_Hang on a minute, you can see me? You can hear me too?_

“Yes, I can. Although to be honest, usually it’s only me doing the talking. It’s the first time you replied.”

_That’s because I’m here, you stoner. I bet it’s only because of the shit you smoke that you see me._

“Probably.” Olaf brought the mouth piece up again and inhaled deeply. He blew the cloud of smoke out again, upward into the night sky.

_Will you even remember this once you sober up?_

“Probably not.”

They looked at each other in silence for a while.

“How are things on the other side, Anders?”

_I wouldn’t know, you know. I haven’t been there yet._

Olaf’s peaceful expression turned into a deep frown. “What do you mean you haven’t been there yet? Anders... are you saying you’ve never left? You’re still here as a... a...”

_A ghost, is what I am. I guess. No one can see or hear me, and I can’t touch things or people._

“Well I guess that makes you a ghost then.” Olaf sucked fiercely at the mouthpiece of the hookah. “Shit.”

_You’re the first one ever to talk to me, grandpa. Apart from the people who visited my grave, but that doesn’t really count, does it?_

Anders managed to keep himself from bawling like a baby but he didn’t succeed in keeping the tears at bay.

“No, I guess it doesn’t.” Olaf adjusted his position. “Can we do something? Can I do anything for you?”

_I wouldn’t know. I don’t know shit about being a ghost. I have no fucking clue why there wasn’t any white light at the end of the tunnel for me._

Olaf heaved a deep and heavy sigh, and when he looked up again, tears were spilling from his eyes. “That’s... that’s just shit, Anders. It isn’t fair. It just isn’t fair.”  
 _  
What am I supposed to say to that, grandpa?_

Anders wiped his face.

_I don’t know what to do. I’m trapped. I’m fucking trapped like this._

“I can see that.” Olaf shook his head again and wiped a hand down his cheeks as well. “Shit, I don’t know what do to, either...” He took another drag of the mouthpiece that was, as Anders discovered now, shaped like the head of a snake and every time Olaf took a breath of smoke, it looked as if he was kissing the snake. It made Anders shudder. He hated snakes. Well, at least that hadn’t changed with him being dead.

Olaf lowered the mouthpiece again and looked at him with deep sadness in his eyes.

“Are you still bound to your grave then?”

_No, thank fuck not. I wouldn’t be here if I was, right? I spent two weeks after the funeral there being bored to de... being bored out of my skull._

Olaf swallowed hard. “And... before that?”

Anders took a deep breath and shook his head.

_I’m not going into any detail, Olaf. Let’s just say I was forced to hang around ever since I... my body... was put into a body bag._

“Shit...” Olaf’s voice broke. “Shit... that’s... Anders, I’m so sorry...”

Anders shook his head.

_Stop being sorry and try thinking of a way to help me!_

“I said I don’t have a fucking clue...” He broke off and narrowed his eyes. “No, I don’t have a fucking clue how to help you. But I know someone who might.”

_Great. Who is he and where do we find him?_

“Her. Her name’s Nellie Rolvsson.”

_Nellie Rolvsson? Never heard that name._

“No, you wouldn’t have. And I just hope she still lives in the house where I visited her the last time. That was more than thirty years ago.”

_And why would a woman called Nellie Rolvsson be able to help me?_

“I don’t know if she will, Anders. I don’t even know if she can. But she’s the only one I can think of who might.”

Anders leaned forward. 

_And why is that?_

“Before the Gahr, she was Vör, goddess of wisdom and of witchcraft.”

_In case you didn’t notice yet, the gods have fucked off._

“I know the gods aren’t here anymore, Anders. But witchcraft isn’t only depended on god power, you know? She might still be a witch. And if she doesn’t know stuff about restless spirits, then I don’t know who does.”

_Great. When do we leave?_

“I hate to tell you that, but I can’t drive until I’ve sobered up. And once I’ve sobered up, I most likely won’t be able to see or hear you anymore. I can only hope you’ll be able to stick around, because I don’t know how to find you.”

_I can do that, grandpa. No sweat. I don’t have a grave where I have to be. Or any other place, really._

“So if you’re not bound to your grave anymore, where do you... uhm... reside? Are you just wandering?”

_I’m... I kinda moved into Mike’s bar._

“He’s gonna be thrilled to learn that his deceased brother is haunting his place.” Olaf managed a crooked little smile.

_I’m sure he’s going to freak out like there’s no tomorrow, so I’d rather you don’t tell him._

“I won’t, don’t worry. I know he’s... he’s a little...”

_He’s broken. I know._

At the thought of his older brother, the tears were back and Anders just shook his head and wiped his face. 

_He’s broken. And I don’t know why he thinks it’s his fault!_

“It’s because he threw you out of the bar.”

_That’s bullshit. Okay, he threw me out, but that stupid bitch was speeding and texting, so if it’s anyone’s fault, really, then it’s hers. Apart from that I’m the one who didn’t watch where he was going, so I’m probably not entirely free of blame, either._

“Try telling him that.”

He shrugged.

_I did. Several times. But even if I can somehow reach people..._

“What do you mean, reach people?”

_I don’t know how to explain it. I talk to them, and somehow, they... they don’t hear me, but it feels as if the things I say appear as thoughts in their head. They probably think it’s their own thoughts, but still._

Olaf shook his head with a confused frown, and Anders told him about Mike and the car as they had left the graveyard, and about the young woman who had almost committed suicide. He left out the episode with Ty and Dawn, however.

“I see... that’s fascinating.” Olaf took another drag of the pipe. “Really fascinating.”

_Yeah. Woohoo. But I can’t do shit, grandpa. I can’t move things, I can’t touch anything. Yesterday..._

The words got stuck in his throat. It took him quite an effort to tell Olaf about the kitten, and he expected him to laugh at that. Instead, Olaf looked sadder than ever before.

“I wish there was a way I could help you, I really do. But all I can do is go and ask Nellie if she knows anything.”

_And if she doesn’t?_

Olaf sighed and shook his head again. “Fuck if I know, Anders. Fuck if I know.”

Anders shook his head as well and stared at the sand before him.

He spent the remainder of night with Olaf in silence, and come morning, after Olaf had put out the fire and stowed things away in his van again, he sat down in the passenger seat. 

“I hope you’re still here,” Olaf said after a moment. “I can actually remember last night’s conversation, though for some reason I’d rather I didn’t. But I’m still glad I do, because now we can find out if there’s something we can do. I can only hope and pray Nellie knows something.”

_Me too, grandpa._

Anders looked straight ahead.

_Me too._


	6. Chapter 6

To Anders’s bemusement, Olaf drove back to Auckland, found a large pet store, and bought a huge, fifteen pound sack of cat food. 

_Oh come on, you’re not serious, are you? That witch is a little old lady living in a hut with a bunch of cats?_

Olaf, his smoke clamped firmly between his lips, just loaded the sack into the boot of the van and got back behind the wheel. 

They drove to Norsewood, but they passed through the town and eventually, left the main road for a smaller one going through the forest. After a few miles more, Olaf slowed down until he found another road, or maybe path was a better word for it. It was gravelled, and full of potholes.

After ten minutes more, and dusk was already falling by that time, the path just ended, blocked up with a few boulders, and Olaf parked his van next to a pick-up that had seen better days long ago. They left the car, and Anders could see a small footpath leading from where the car was parked to a house. 

The house was more of a farmhouse than a hut, the surrounding clearing large enough for a vegetable garden and a chicken pen. Olaf unloaded the sack of cat food and hoisted it onto his shoulder, then spat out the butt end and ground it out under his heel. After one last adjustment of the sack, he set off into the direction of the house.

“Seems like she still lives here,” Olaf muttered, if to Anders or more to himself wasn’t clear.

_Looks cosy, really. Look at all those chickens. I’m glad I can’t smell anything._

Olaf hadn’t reached the door yet when it opened and a woman stepped out, middle aged, heavily built and tall, wearing dark blue overalls, a white T-Shirt and a red headscarf that hid her hair.

Her eyes widened, then her face darkened worryingly. “The fuck do you want here, you twat?”  
“Hi Nellie.” Olaf cleared his throat. “I come bearing gifts.”

The woman crossed her arms and leaned into the doorframe, but her facial expression was slightly less guarded now. Olaf put the sack down with a nervous little smile. Two cats wound themselves through the woman’s legs and mustered the newcomers with distrustful, yellow eyes.

“Olaf Johnson,” she said with a shake or her head. “I swear you haven’t aged a day.”  
“Well, technically I haven’t, though now I’ll be catching up, I guess.”  
“What do you want?” She asked again.  
“I need help,” Olaf said simply.

Nellie sighed and uncrossed her arms, then walked down the three steps from the door and came to halt before Olaf. She was a good bit taller than Anders and almost on eye level with him.

“Help with what?”  
“I don’t really know how to start...” Olaf hesitated for a moment. “It’s about my grandson. He died a few weeks ago.”  
The pain in her eyes was unmasked, and her face softened considerably. “Oh shit, no... Olaf...” Then she sighed. “You know I can’t bring back the dead, though, don’t you?”  
“I do, so that’s not... See, the problem is...” He rubbed both hands down his face. “The problem is, I had a conversation with him last night.”

Tilting her head, Nellie lifted one eyebrow.

“Yes, I know. And I know I wasn’t sober, but ever since he died I had conversations with him, rather one-sided ones. But last night, he actually spoke to me. I swear, it was as if he was there. And I’m sure he was. He told me he... he told me he isn’t at peace.”  
Nellie inhaled sharply. “Shit. And you’re sure it’s more than drugged ramblings?”  
“As sure as I can be, Nellie.”

“Hm.” She tapped her chin with her forefinger. “And what do you expect me to do about it?”  
Olaf stared at her for a moment, groping for words. “I thought... I thought you know about ghosts, and how to put them to rest?”  
“I know stuff, yes. But Vör is no longer here, so it’s very limited what I can do. She left the knowledge but...”  
“Anything, really.” Olaf shook his head with a shrug. “’Cause if it’s true then he’s stuck and can’t move on without being able to...”  
“I know,” she interrupted him. “I know what this is about. Let me think.”

After a moment, she sighed, and bade Olaf enter. Anders followed suit.

Nellie and Olaf settled down in a tiny, cosy kitchen full of mismatched crockery on wooden shelves, countless spices and other ingredients sitting on other shelves, and bundles of dried herbs hanging from the ceiling. 

_Christ, you’re a walking cliché, lady, you know that? You just need a warty nose._

Nellie puttered around for a bit and made tea, then put two steaming mugs and a plate full of cookies onto the table. Then she sat down cross-legged onto the chair opposite Olaf’s and picked up her mug.

“So. Tell me again. Tell me how he died, what happened after, and about the conversation you had last night.”

Olaf cleared his throat and explained. He started with the accident that had cost Anders’s life, and about the aftermath of grief and guilt; an aftermath Anders hadn’t been privy to up until now because he had been bound to his body.

Hearing that Gaia had to be hospitalized for a few days because of a suicide attempt had Anders in tears again. She hadn’t even harmed herself, Axl had found her just in time, but the thought of his baby brother finding his girlfriend holding a razorblade to her wrist was almost too much to bear. Anders sat down on the floor, his back against the wall, and tried to stop his tears. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what that had done to his little brother’s mind.

Dawn had been so shocked that Ty had been forced to babysit her 24/7 for two days because the doctors had prescribed a tranquilizer to keep her from going hysteric. 

Both Mike and Michelle had, and were still having, serious guilt issues; Mike because he held himself responsible for Anders’s death as he had thrown him out, and Michelle because she blamed herself for not being fast enough to react and act because Yggdrasil could have saved him.

Ty had almost freaked out to the point of throwing a fit about the fish, and he had spent a week caring for them in Anders’s flat while furbishing the new tank, and transferring the fish had left him a mental wreck until they had finally been re-homed safely.

After listening to this, Anders was shaken to the core. He only listened with half an ear to Olaf recounting last night’s conversation while trying to banish the images out of his head. 

“Hm,” Nellie finally said after a sip of tea. “I can see a lot of unresolved issues.”  
Olaf gave her a small, unhappy smile. “You could say that, yes.”  
“You know what happened.” She put her mug down. “Tell me.”

After clearing his throat again, Olaf started with their childhood home in Norsewood, Johan and Elizabeth and all the shit that had happened, about them abandoning their children and leaving Mike in charge, barely an adult himself. About issues of hate and resentment and blame, about the thing with Rob and the thing with Val, and how all that had left the brothers, especially Anders and Mike, with only the brittle remains of broken bonds. 

He didn’t keep their issues with each other a secret, neither Mike’s nor Anders’s resentment, neither Mike’s issues nor Anders’s attitudes. 

“He was a prick, you know,” Olaf said and wiped his eyes. “But he was always ready to help.”

_Yeah, a useful tool, I know. It was always about Bragi and never about Anders. Don’t think I wasn’t aware of that._

“Whose vessel was he, Olaf?”  
“Bragi.”  
“Ah.” She took a sip of tea. “That makes sense.”  
“What kind of sense?”

The look Nellie gave Olaf made the latter cringe and look at his feet, and for the first time in his... existence, Anders had the feeling that there was someone on his side.

“I was just wondering why you kept the contact going, why you didn’t just leave him when he was acting up like that, and turns out he was just too valuable a tool, wasn’t he?”  
Olaf opened his mouth to reply, but no sound emerged.  
“You all had your issues, the gods know there’s a reason I visited your home only once after Elizabeth married that violent asshole, and we don’t even need to pretend you got rid of any of those issues, right? Now put a neglected teenager and a brother who’s not much older and who’s been forced into the role of a carer together... By Odin’s hairy balls, to believe that would work is like believing that pouring sulphur and fertiliser together won’t create an explosive. What the fuck was she thinking?”

Olaf still had his mouth open, but Nellie didn’t give him a chance to speak.

“Are you really surprised that he felt the need to utilize his new found powers to the point of abusing them when he was finally provided with the means to get what he wanted? Sure, he’s been an ass about it, but tell me, Olaf: Has anyone ever taught any of these boys how to be a good man? Has anyone but that selfish asshole Johann ever had a part in their upbringing?”  
“Well...” Olaf cleared his throat. His face was a little pale. “Mike did, I mean... he took care of Ty and Axl.”  
“Who were children at that time. And Anders? He was a teenager, right? And I assume Mike was as patient and understanding as you wish during the time an abused teenager was dealing with the fact that he had been abandoned on top of everything else.”

Olaf closed his mouth again and, after a moment, looked at the table. 

“You Johnsons are such a fucked-up family I can hardly believe any of you made it into adulthood. To think that I lost my sister because of you lot!”

From his position on the floor, Anders looked up at the woman whom he had just discovered to be his aunt. Just like Elizabeth to never have talked about her. 

“Nellie, it’s not my fault Elizabeth fell in love with that loser of my son.”  
“Yes! Yes, exactly, your son! You were as responsible for his upbringing as Johan was for his own sons! And you both fucked it up royally! The only time I was there to check on my nephews Johann literally and physically threw me out of the house! And it’s only because of his stupid fucking powers that the police I sent there never did any more than waggle a finger at him! And you! You were out surfing without a care in the world when all that happened!”

A long and heavy and very uncomfortable silence followed Nellie’s outburst. Olaf stared at his hands, shaking his head, and with trembling shoulders he slowly slumped forward, folded his arms on the table and buried his face there while he went slowly and very thoroughly to pieces.

Nellie got up with a heavy sigh and made more tea. She ignored Olaf for the time being, and only once she had two more mugs ready to drink did she pull her chair over to his side. She sat down and slung both arms around Olaf while resting her head between his shoulder blades. 

“How did you even manage to pretend that things hadn’t gone to shit completely,” Nellie asked gently after a while.   
“I don’t know,” Olaf sobbed into his arms. “I don’t fucking know.”  
“I guess things were so fucked up that none of you could admit how fucked up they were.” She sighed. “Oh Olaf...” She ran a hand over his head. “That there was so much bad blood between your grandsons that they weren’t even able to deal with god business anymore and kept blaming each other for shit those fuckers did...”  
“But no one did,” Olaf whispered hoarsely. “No one blamed anyone else for anything.”  
“Just Anders.” Nellie shook her head. “Just Anders because he couldn’t stay away from the spouse of his god.”

Olaf wasn’t able to reply.

Anders would have liked to feel righteous satisfaction. But somehow, he felt only sad. 

After a moment, Nellie got up and threw both hands up into the air. “Gods almighty, it’s no wonder that the poor soul can’t find any rest! You guys have more unresolved issues than the Nuremberg Trials!”

Anders stared up at her, feeling a strange mix of pain and confusion. He had never thought about things like that but the way she had put it made perfect sense, too much sense to be comfortable with. He wiped his eyes and shook his head. This was more fucked up than he would ever have thought possible.


	7. Chapter 7

Several minutes passed in silence until Nellie shook her head and crossed her arms again, staring at nothing with her mouth a thin line.

“You know Olaf...” She finally said in a heavy voice. “None of us is entirely free of guilt. I wish I hadn’t given up on my sister and my nephews that easily, but the fucker Johann had scared me off for good. I wish I had had more guts than that... cause trying to get in touch with my sister helped sweet fuck all. It’s as if that fuckwit had brainwashed her. And I still have the feeling I should have tried harder.”

Olaf looked up again and wiped his face with both hands.

“As long we we’re clear about this,” she said sharply. “I’m not doing this for me, nor you. Our bad conscience is our own business and our own load to bear. I’m doing this for the man whom I have only seen once in my life, when he was still a baby. I’m doing this for Anders.”  
“I wouldn’t have asked anything else, really.”

Nellie sighed again. 

“What was it you smoked last night?”  
“Was a really good Black Afghan.”  
“You still got some of that?”  
Olaf sat up straight and cleared his throat. “Some. Why? Need a smoke?”  
“No. Not as such, at least. But if you could get in touch with him after smoking that, then I might as well. Or you can, and tell me what he said. I’d rather not perform a summoning if I can avoid it, that’s not without risks.”  
“What kind of risks?”

Nellie ignored his question. “I’ll get a fire started out at the back. You get the shit.”  
“Yes, ma’m.” Olaf got up and left. 

Anders decided to follow Nellie. His aunt. His mother’s sister. Elizabeth had never as much as breathed a word about her in all those years. And neither had Johann.   
Apparently, with her being opposed to their marriage, both of them had decided to cut her out of their lives. 

After watching her set up kindling and logs for a fire, Anders wandered aimlessly around, encountering several cats on his way. They all looked warily into his direction, as if they could see him perfectly well. 

Then he cast a look at the chicken coop, inhabited by a dozen white hens, and found a few hutches with grey rabbits. Nellie lived her on her own with her animals, and looking at the vegetable garden, she seemed largely self-sufficient.

Behind him, close to the trees, Nellie had started the small fire and laid out three flat pillows. Olaf came with the hookah, and Anders sat down on one of the pillows to watch. When Olaf was done he sat down too, choosing Anders’s pillow, and with a muttered curse Anders got up again and chose another.

Apparently it needed some time. The two of them smoked in silence, passing the mouth piece of the hookah back and forth, and Anders watched them. Watched as their faces relaxed and their pupils shrank into pinpricks while the thick, bluish smoke billowed around their heads and blended with the smoke from the bonfire. A log broke and sent a shower of sparks upwards into the darkness.

Suddenly, Nellie tilted her head and smiled.  
And finally Anders understood why stuff like that was called a mind-expanding drug. It was a very apt description.

“Welcome,” she said gravely. “I gather you are Anders.”

_Who else would it be, auntie?_

“So you know.”

_Yes, but only because I came with Olaf and I kinda eavesdropped on your earlier conversation._

“Fair enough.”

“Hey Anders,” Olaf said as well. But this time, he wasn’t smiling. “So you heard. Saves me the pain of going through it again.”

_Yeah, whatever. You know... I never looked at it this way, but she’s right, you know. I could have used a little back up back then._

Olaf just looked at him in silence, a single tear trickling down his cheek.

_Okay grandpa. Okay, I get it. That was then, and now is now._

He looked at Nellie again.

_What the fuck am I supposed to do now?_

“No one stays behind without a reason,” Nellie said slowly. “But what that reason is... only you can find out. The gods know that there are enough possibilities.”

_Sure. But what then? And how the fuck do I do it?_

“You will know. You know what keeps you here, you just have to discover it.”

_Can we please cut the esoteric bullshit? What the fuck am I supposed to do?_

“Well.” Nellie took another drag of the hookah. “Tell me what happened after the accident.”

Anders told her his side of the events, and what happened after, with Mike, the young woman, and the kitten.

“Quite clearly, you are bound to your brothers, so your issue lies there.”

_No shit, Sherlock._

“Was he always like this?” Nellie asked with a chuckle.  
Olaf smiled wistfully. “He could take the piss like no one else.”

Anders crossed his arms, and Nellie’s smile softened. “I meant no offence. Actually, it’s a relief to see that you have not lost your spirit. You still are like you were in live, and you haven’t only retained your spirit but also the way you looked, then that means you’re a rather powerful ghost.”

_What else would I be then if I didn’t look like me?_

“A wailing spirit made of suffering. Those creatures are hard to save, because they are almost impossible to understand. It takes a lot of time and guesswork to be able to understand what made them.”

Anders couldn’t suppress a shudder.

_Crap. Right. So even now it could’ve been worse._

“It could.” Nellie adjusted her position. “But still, I can’t help you find what you are looking for. But you do have a purpose. Without it, you wouldn’t be here.”

Anders stared into the flames. 

_Do you think that young woman had anything to do with this? I mean... I don’t want to be vain, but I saved her life, didn’t I?_

“You most likely did,” Nellie replied. “And you might well have prevented your brother from having an accident himself as well.”

_Couldn’t save the kitten, though. Fuck... that gets me every time I think about it._

He closed his eyes. He still felt tears burn in his eyes every time he thought of it.

“No, you couldn’t.”

_I don’t fucking get it!_

Anders looked up and wiped a hand across his eyes.

_I don’t fucking get it! I can sit here on my ass, and I can sit in Mike’s car but I was able to walk right through the door! It doesn’t make any fucking sense!_

“It makes perfect sense once you understand how these things work, Anders. I will try to explain.” She took a deep breath. “So, you do not have a physical body anymore, but you retain a memory of one. To you it feels like a body, right?”

_Sort of. Feels creepy to watch the rain fall right through me, though._

“I can imagine. Now. It all has to do with memories. Conscious and subconscious ones. Sitting down is not something you think about, right?”

Anders could only frown. He didn’t get what she was going at.

“When you sit down you don’t think about sitting. You just do it. But the fact is, you are not sitting down. You are, in fact, not touching that pillow. But your mind and the memories make it feel to you that you are. So...” She paused thoughtfully. “So. You are insubstantial, but your ethereal body retains memories of a physical one. And it’s those... forces... that energy, and I don’t know how to describe it, human languages are so ill suited for these things... anyway, it’s that what makes a ghost powerful. Think of it as... it’s a bit like two magnets, brought together the wrong way round. Instead of clinging to each other, they repel each other. Remember that feeling?”

Anders nodded.

“Good. What happens here is something similar. The field you create is similar. What feels like an invisible force between the two magnets is similar to the force that makes you feel solid. But looking at your face, I can see that I’m not making much sense.”

Anders smiled crookedly and crossed his arms. 

“Just think of it as your hand being a magnet, and whatever it is you want to touch or move, is another magnet. You do not touch it. You can’t. But you can remember how it feels to touch something, right? Because that’s what you feel on your backside what you sit down. Now all you have to do is re-create that memory in your hands and use it as a force field.”

_Oh great, now I get to be fucking Darth Vader, too._

It made more sense now, actually. Of sorts. So whenever he was sitting down he wasn’t actually sitting, just in a sitting position, creating a... field... Christ, what a load of esoteric crap, that made it feel as if he sat. So. An unconscious sensation. And that meant that he could do it consciously as well. If he could find out how.

Something hit the ground before him, and as he looked up, he could see that Nellie had tossed him a pine cone.

Anders adjusted his position and focused. He reached for the pine cone and narrowed his eyes. Of course, his fingers went right through it. But then he curled his fingers around it, as close as he could, and imagined feeling it touching his hand. Imagined that weird feeling you get when you hold two magnets together the wrong way round. 

The fucking thing refused to move. Anders felt his anger and the frustration come back and gritted his teeth. 

_Come on you fucking thing, move!_

The pine cone remained unimpressed. 

“I’m sorry... Most ghosts never master this. I just thought it might have been worth a try.”

_FUCK YOU!_

Anders hit the pine cone like a toddler throwing a tantrum, and it sailed through the air and landed in the fire.

“Well. Fancy that,” Olaf said drily.

_Fuck off, grandpa._

“All right.” Nellie leaned back. “The rest is up to you, really. I can’t tell you more than this.”

Anders looked at his hand and then at the fire.

_But I’ll never be able to talk to them again, will?_

“Not as such, no.”

_And what’s that supposed to mean?_

“That you will not be able to hold a two-sided conversation in your current state. Unless someone summons you, you will remain insubstantial. And thus, invisible and inaudible as well.”

_Unless someone is stoned, like you two._

“That’s probably no guarantee. Olaf has been an oracle for decades, and I was the goddess of witchcraft, and for what it’s worth, I still am what people call a witch. I’m not sure Mike or Ty would be able to see or hear you even if they were stoned out of their skulls.”

_Fuck._

“There is a way, you know. I know how to summon a ghost. But I’d rather not do it unless in dire circumstances. It’s not without risks.”

_For you, or me?_

“You. Especially you. You see, the summoning always happens in a circle of protection so whatever is summoned can’t get out. But when things go wrong, that can easily lead to your annihilation.”’

_Which is not the same as death, I gather._

“No, because dead is what you are now. You are a soul without a body. Annihilation means your soul will be snuffed out like a candle flame.”

The thought made Anders’s insides clench in fear.

“But if you should ever really feel the need to talk to them, we can arrange a setting where you can use me or Olaf as a medium.”

_A fucking séance. Great. With moving glasses?_

Nellie lifted her eyebrows. “Well, sure, we can do that. We can do candles on skulls too and I can even wear a black dress with sequins. Or I can just sit here and tell them what you said.”

Anders cleared his throat and smiled apologetically. 

_Sorry. I guess I’m not really used to being a ghost yet._

“Then you better get used to it, because denial is the greatest obstruction in the development of your powers.”

_Powers. I like the sound of it... hey, that makes me think. Do you think that... me being able to subconsciously influence people... do you think that has to do with me having been Bragi?_

“It might. I have no way of telling.”

Anders nodded again and stared at his feet. There was a small stick, a piece of kindling, most likely, sticking out from under his pillow.  
He narrowed his eyes. Then he moved his hand, and instead of focussing on feelings like magnets or anything else, he tried to imagine what it would feel like if he had that stick between two fingers.

And then, suddenly, he pulled it out from under the pillow and held it triumphantly up in front of him, pinched between thumb and forefinger.

_I kick ass!_

Nellie smiled and nodded. “I said you were strong. Just remember that one thing, Anders.”

Anders looked up at her and dropped the stick. The tone of her voice made his ethereal skin creep.

“You are like this for a reason. You have a purpose. Don’t abuse these powers you have to fulfil that purpose. You might well close the door that is meant for you forever.”

Anders didn’t have to ask what door she meant. He nodded, and slowly, picked up the stick again. He still didn’t have a fucking clue what exactly he was supposed to do and why and how, but now he felt more confident that once he did, he would be able to do it.


	8. Chapter 8

Anders had left Olaf and Nellie to reminisce about times gone by and made his way back to the bar. For once, it was dark and silent in the taproom, and Anders could hear no sounds from above, either. With a sigh, Anders sat down on his chair and stared at the candle, and the glass next to it.

For all that’s worth, it looked like an altar.

_Altar to Anders Johnson. Pray to Lord Bragi for advice._

It should have been funny. But it wasn’t. 

Anders focussed on the glass again and closed his fingers around it. Focussed on the feeling of a glass in his hand. And the glass trembled, then moved. He lifted it, slowly and cautiously, and saw the liquid slosh in the glass. 

_Well that didn’t go half bad._

Anders smiled at the glass of vodka.

_Got you, you shitty bastard._

But as it turned out, setting it down was another matter entirely. The glass hit the counter a little too hard, toppled over and spilled its contents before rolling off the counter and then shattering on the floor.

_Shit..._

Moments later Mike came down the stairs with a sledge hammer.

He frowned as he looked around in the empty bar and cautiously walked across the taproom. Then he saw the glass.

“Shit.”  
“What is it?” Michelle called from above.  
“I think we got rats here!”  
“Ew! For fuck’s sake!”  
“Don’t worry,” Mike called up the stairs. “There’s nothing here now, and I buy some traps first thing tomorrow!”

Anders released a breath he hadn’t been aware he had been holding. Maybe he should practise with things that weren’t breakable. So for the rest of the night, he played with one of the towels, picking it up, letting it fall, picking it up again and folding it before putting it back. It worked out fine.

Anders tried not to think of Mike’s reaction if he should ever catch him doing that. He’d die of a heart attack.

* * *

The next day, Anders left the bar again and wondered what he would do, now that he had some sort of control again. So he knew what he could do, all he had to find out now was what he was supposed to do. 

He hadn’t checked on Axl for a while. And closing his eyes, Anders stepped forward and let himself be carried by the strange current he had no means to explain. He didn’t open his eyes though until he was sure that his brother was decent.

Axl was sitting on his bed, and Gaia was sitting opposite him. Both of them had cried.

“I’m so sorry...” Gaia swallowed and shook her head. “But it just... It just isn’t the same anymore, you know?”  
“Yeah.” Axl tried to smile. “I know. It isn’t.”

Gaia toyed with a fold of her blouse. “And you know it’s not because of... him. Not because of... what we did.” She closed her eyes and was fighting her tears. “But it all went to shit and now...”  
“Hey.” Axl leaned forward and tried to smile. “I know you couldn’t stop it. And I know it all went to shit. You don’t have to apologize. We just... we can’t go on like this. It’s... it’s just...” He shrugged and wiped his eyes.

They both looked at each other in mute despair. Then Gaia moved forward and they embraced, but it wasn’t the embrace of lovers. It was the hug of friends, and Anders was strangely relieved to see it. So they had been on their way to make the same mistake as Mike and Val had done, but they had somehow managed to sort themselves out.

“Hey.” Axl took her hands in his and smiled, through tears, but smiled. It looked less strained now.  
“Hey.” Gaia managed to smile as well. “Do you think we can stay friends?”  
“I hope so,” Axl said with a shrug. “I like you a lot, Gaia, just...”  
“I know. Just. Just not like that anymore.”

Axl looked down at their joined hands. “Can I ask you something? I don’t know why... I just... you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, of course.” He looked up again. “It’s about Anders.”  
Gaia swallowed but nodded.  
“Was he...” Axl bit his lip and a strange, embarrassed smile appeared around his lips. “Was he... was it worth it?”

Gaia frowned for a moment, visibly confused, before she huffed out a soft laugh. “Axl... why do you want to know that?”  
“I don’t know. I just... I don’t know. Just forget it.”  
“Axl, do you want an honest answer to that question? Even if it’s not the one you want to hear?”  
“Yes,” Axl said firmly. “Yes, I do.”  
“Okay.” Gaia smiled a sad and wistful smile. “He was amazing. It was the best sex I ever had. Honestly... he made me feel as if I could fly.”

Anders knew he should feel incredibly smug right now and flattered. Well, he felt a little flattered. But instead of victorious smugness, he just felt sad on his brother’s account. But Axl seemed to have expected that answer; he actually looked relieved, almost as if he had been hoping for that answer.

Gaia wiped a tear from her cheek. “You know... the other day I bought a pregnancy test because... I thought I was overdue.”

Axl’s mouth fell open and Anders felt his stomach drop into the vicinity of his feet.

“I think it was actually wishful thinking,” Gaia went on. “It was negative.”  
Axl swallowed. “I guess that’s a good thing, right?”  
“It should be.” Gaia didn’t look up at him. “But I somehow...”

_Gaia, babe, please don’t wreck your brain about that. That would have been disastrous on so many levels..._

“I would have done it, you know.” It was only a whisper. “I would have done it.”  
“I know you would.” Axl opened his arms. “But hey, it’s okay. And maybe it’s better this way.”  
“Maybe.” Gaia couldn’t hold back her tears anymore. “But I would have done it.”  
Axl closed his arms around her while Gaia was sobbing into his shoulder.  
“I would have done it...”

Shaking his head and wiping his eyes, Anders slid through the closed door and forced his mind away from that thought. But the longer he thought about it, the more he was sure of the fact that it was better this way. Indefinitely better.

He saw Zeb on the couch watching a crap reality show.

_You should go and get more beer. And then try and convince Axl and Gaia to get pissed. They both need to unwind a little and think of other things._

Zeb kept staring at the screen for another moment, then he sat up and looked over his shoulder at the door to Axl’s room. He shook his head and made his way into his own room from where he emerged a few moments later, fully dressed. He left silently, humming under his breath.

Anders just returned to Mike’s bar. Somehow, knowing that Axl and Gaia had indeed sorted themselves out made him feel so much better.

* * *

There were a few patrons in Mike’s bar when he came back, so Anders had to refrain from any more attempts at picking things up. He sat down and listened to a conversation about hunting, hiking, wives, kids and rugby until he got so bored that he left the bar again. 

Walking aimlessly towards Cornwall Park, he suddenly had a vision so clear and vivid that it made him gasp. 

He saw a busy crossroad. He saw a red van speeding and ignoring a red light. He saw a cyclist. And he saw a pick-up. The cyclist and the pick-up were on the same lane. The red van was heading right for them and hit the truck in the side. The cyclist was crushed between the two cars. 

The cyclist was Ty.

Anders felt his blood run cold. He quickly closed his eyes and focussed on Ty, and within a few seconds he found himself standing next to his brother.

Before him, he could see the crossroad. He saw the lights change and watched as Ty got onto his bike.

_Ty, fuck no, just hang on a second!_

Ty adjusted his right foot. 

Anders could see the red van. And in a desperate attempt to make him stop, he reached out and twisted the pedal. Ty’s foot slipped and he hit the saddle somewhat painfully with the parts where it really hurt.

“Shit! Oh fuck...” Ty got down from the bike with a curse and adjusted his crotch. At that moment, brakes screeched behind him followed by the crash of two colliding cars.

Ty froze and stared. He swallowed hard, and Anders could see that he realised that he could have been right in the middle of that crash. Several other cars had been forced to stop now too, some with full braking as well, and a few of them actually crashed into each other too. 

“Shit...” Ty took a shaky breath. “Jesus fucking Christ...”

_You okay, Ty?_

Ty took another breath, then he swung himself into the saddle again. Anders watched him as he disappeared around a corner.

And with a deep and heavy sigh of his own, he suddenly realised that this was what he was supposed to do, until he found out how to pass on. He could keep his brothers safe. 

He knew, somehow, that it was not the real purpose. There was something else, something he would have to find out yet, but this... this was why he had been given the ability to manipulate physical matter. And until he would find out what his purpose was, he would play guardian angel.

A guardian angel in a grey suit instead of a white robe. No wings, no halo. Just a tie. 

Anders was so relieved and his spirits lifted so much that he was chuckling to himself as he returned to the bar.

* * *

Now that the ice was broken Anders got the hang of picking up things pretty quickly. He spent the next few days practising, until he could lift the glass of vodka and put it down again without troubles and without spilling a drop. But since anyone who would have some in would only have seen a levitating glass, Anders only practised at night.

He then moved from glasses and towels on to smaller objects that required more precision. He went upstairs for that, after making sure Mike and Michelle were gone, and proceeded to practise on paper clips and hairpins. Then he moved onwards to shampoo bottles and from there to heavier items such as pans and pots.

Anders was very satisfied with his progress. It was when he found himself able to lift a chair that he realised that there was no limit to what he could move. He tried the table next. He could even lift the bed.

He was a fucking poltergeist. 

Anders kept fist-pumping to himself on his way down the stairs.

In an exceptionally good mood, he left the bar again for another walk through Auckland. He was still bothered by a feeling of sadness that he couldn’t partake in life anymore, but Nellie had been right. He had come to terms with the fact of what happened and what he now was, and suddenly, everything had become easier. 

He passed a little boy with an ice cream cornet. The ball of ice was about to slip and fall down, and with widening eyes, the boy realised that his ice cream was lost. He couldn’t understand how it suddenly righted itself up again.

Anders was whistling under his breath as he left the boy staring at the miracle of the rescued ice cream. And he hadn’t even gotten sticky hands.

He told a boy not to use his phone while cycling, and prevented a collision of him and an elderly lady with a Zimmer frame.

He continued like this for a few more days. He didn’t safe anyone’s life again, but he could stop a few accidents from happening. Or just make some people’s lives a little easier.

His existence finally had a meaning again.

And then, one day, and again completely out of the blue, he had another premonition. He saw Axl lying in front of a running circular saw with a shattered and bleeding face. It took him all of three seconds to reach his baby brother’s side.

Axl and Ty were giving Mike a hand with refurbishing the cellar under the bar, and Axl was currently cutting measured lengths off a two by four. 

Anders could see the nail on the underside of the wood. Axl did not. He brought the wood forward, and Anders jumped.

He had no clue how it was possible to react like this. It was as if time slowed around him, or maybe he just got really fast, but the moment the blade of the saw hit the nail, Anders knocked the length of wood aside that would have shattered Axl’s jaw, teeth and nose with the kickback. As it was, it only grazed his cheek and the shell of his ear.

Axl dropped the bits of wood and fell back with a scream of terror. Mike and Ty instantly dropped everything as well and sprinted to his side, both their faces white as a sheet.

Ty reached him first. “Axl! Shit... Axl are you okay?”  
Axl sat up, and he was shaking like a, leaf in the wind. He was deathly pale as well, and he touched his cheek and stared at the blood in his fingers. “Fuck,” he whispered tonelessly.  
“Axl...” Mike put an arm around him after kneeling down. “It’s okay...”

At that moment, Michelle came running down the stairs with a first aid kit.

“It’s okay, Michelle.” Ty looked up with a weak smile. “Just a scratch.”  
“Jesus fucking Christ, don’t scare me like that!” Michelle lowered herself down in front of Axl. “I hear the saw and then I hear someone scream...”  
“Well...” Mike swallowed. “It was a close shave.”  
“Literally.” Michelle took a compress and some disinfectant and cleaned the scratches on Axl’s cheek and ear. “Shit, Axl, your guardian angel has just ...”

Then she froze. Everyone in the room froze. 

“I’ve got a guardian angel, huh?” Axl asked in a shaky voice.  
“Seems like,” Michelle replied tonelessly.  
“I think...” Ty began. “I think I have one, too.” He swallowed. “The other day I was just getting onto my bike again after a delivery and my foot slipped. And at the moment there was a crash on the crossroad, and it was... it was fucking close. I almost ended up in the middle of a mass collision.”

All four of them fell silent and looked at each other in a heavy silence.

Then Mike’s eyes began to fill with tears.

“I don’t want to believe that,” he whispered. “Not that, too. That even in death he won’t abandon us...” His voice broke on the last word and he dropped his head with a sob.   
Michelle slung her arms around him. “But imagine what would have happened today if he hadn’t been here. If it was him and not a fluke...”

“Honestly,” Ty said hesitantly. “We dealt with enough supernatural crap in our time that I somehow can’t believe in flukes like that anymore.”

Mike unceremoniously burst into tears and slunk into Michelle’s embrace.

And at that moment, Anders realised what he had to do.

He needed to make his peace with his older brother.


	9. Chapter 9

Mike, Axl and Ty had, together with Michelle, packed everything up for the day and relocated into the bar. There they sat in hushed silence now, each of them clutching a bottle of beer, and they looked like frightened children. Ever so often, one of them would cast nervous glances around.

_Oh come on, you’re not expecting me to throw glasses or levitate chairs, are you?_

It almost looked as if they were. And at the same time, they were afraid of it.

Anders was sitting on his chair and forced himself to keep still even though he knew he could have paced around on the bar and hopped from table to table without them noticing. But he knew that something had to happen now. His brothers were convinced that Anders was still around and were horrified by the thought, especially Mike who looked like a delinquent waiting for the executioner’s sword. Just to have it over with.

This wouldn’t do. Once they had all left, Anders spent the night pacing restlessly around Mike’s bar until he finally realised that he needed to speak to Nellie. She was the only one who could help him talk to his brothers without giving them a heart attack.

But he couldn’t go there, not on his own. The teleporting didn’t work with her, and walking there would have taken days. He needed to get in touch with Olaf. 

That was the easy part. Olaf was asleep, rolled up in a sleeping bag on the beach, on a mat without a tent. Next to him was a burned down fire.

Anders thought about waking him up, but then decided against it. Whatever was to come, a few hours until daylight wouldn’t make a difference now. With a small frown on his face walked a few steps towards the waterline, where the sand got harder, and lowered himself down, hand outstretched. After a moment’s concentration, he was able to leave a handprint. Then he smiled, and scratched a line into the sand with his finger.

And when Olaf woke up a few hours later with the light of the rising sun in his eyes, and after he had peeled himself out of the sleeping back, he looked at the waterline and blinked. There, before him in the sand, were big, bold letters. 

NELLIE

Olaf blinked a few times more, and then quickly gathered up his things. He had a quick piss and, after carelessly and hastily throwing everything into the van, fell into the driver’s seat and started the engine.

Anders sat on the passenger seat and realised Olaf was half panicked.

_Jesus, will you calm down? I haven’t been abducted by evil spirits, I just need to talk to the witch lady._

After a moment, Olaf muttered something under his breath and his tight grip on the steering wheel lessened somewhat.

Olaf had hardly killed the engine when he already swung his legs out of the car, and he jogged down the path towards Nellie’s door. A few cats dashed out of the way.

“Nellie! Nellie!!”

After a moment, the door flew open and Nellie emerged, this time in a green shirt and a pair of brown cotton trousers, with her hair hanging down her shoulders. It wasn’t red but a rather nondescript hazel streaked with a little grey, Anders noticed, but it was all in dreadlocks that were decorated with beads and bits of string.

“Nellie! Did you send me a message?”  
“Take a fucking breath, Olaf! What the fuck is wrong with you?”  
“Nellie.” Olaf tried to calm his breathing. “Last night I slept down at the beach and this morning when I got out of the sleeping bag there was your name written in the sand...”  
Nellie looked around. “No,” she said. “I didn’t. But I know who did.”

Olaf exhaled a few times and licked his lips. Nellie, in turn, just crossed her arms and frowned. 

“I guess you want to speak to me and needed a ride. Come in, both of you.”

Anders followed her and Olaf into the kitchen. 

“So.” Nellie took a piece of paper and a pencil. “As far as I know no ghost ever has mastered the art of precise writing, it’ll take ages, so here’s what we do. I ask you a few questions, and you can answer yes or no. We keep it simple for now.”

She drew two circles on the paper, one with a Y in the middle and one with an N. Then she placed the pencil between the circles, pointing down. 

“Yes,” she said and twisted the pencil so the tip painted at the circle with the Y. “No.” She repeated this with the other circle, then straightened the pencil again so the tip pointed down. “That’s the easy bit, right?”

Anders twisted the pencil so it pointed at the Y, the straightened it again.

“So, you wanted to speak to me.”  
 _Yes_  
“It seems pretty urgent, too.”  
 _Yes_  
“Is this about your purpose?”  
 _Yes_  
Nellie frowned and nodded very slowly. “So you found it.”

It didn’t sound like a question, but Anders gave her a _Yes_ nonetheless.

“And you’re here because you need me to help you.”  
 _Yes_

“Should I go get the hookah?” Olaf asked.   
Nellie crossed her arms. “Anders, how urgent is this? Can it wait until nightfall?”

Not sure what she thought nightfall would have to do with it, he scratched his chin, then took the pencil and, with great difficulty, managed to produce something that looked vaguely like a question mark.

“If we want to talk, then night is the best time. During daylight, sounds and images are too much... well, diluted, you could say. It’s difficult to explain. Suffice to say that it will be much easier for me to talk to you at night. So, can it wait? It’s afternoon already, after all.”

Anders gave her a _Yes_ to that. 

“Good. We will prepare everything and start immediately after dusk.”

Anders sat down at the table and watched Olaf run both hands down his face.

“You know, a few weeks ago this would have freaked me out.”  
Nellie chuckled softly. “It takes a bit getting used to.”  
“And how many restless ghosts have you been talking to in your life so far?”  
“Hm, let me think.” She tapped her chin with her forefinger. “Three, I think. No, four.”  
“Okay...” Olaf gave back slowly. “And how... how did that work out?”  
“We, I mean, my teacher and me, were able to help two of them find their way across. One of them found it on their own after all.”  
“And the fourth one?”  
Nellie shrugged. “The fourth one refused to let go. She kept haunting her family and after one of her children ended up in hospital, we had to banish her.”

Olaf swallowed. “So... banishment, is that... the same as annihilation?”  
“No. It means she had no way to get back into this world. If she finally found her way from there to the world beyond, I have no idea.”

Anders had listened to that exchange with a cold feeling of dread. He didn’t want to be trapped here, or anywhere else for that matter. It had been a nice sensation, to think he was here to keep his brothers safe, but this wasn’t it. He wasn’t mean to hang around and keep them safe from any harm until they all died of old age. Apparently he was meant to play guardian angel while he was here, but that wasn’t the reason. 

He got up and walked outside, habitually using the door even if he could have walked through the wall.

Shortly after the fire was burning and Olaf and Nellie were passing the mouthpiece of the hookah back and forth, while Anders waited impatiently for them being stoned enough to see him. 

“Anders.” Finally, Olaf smiled at him. “We meet again.”

_I haven’t been gone, grandpa._

“I know.” Olaf put down the mouthpiece. “Still good to see you.”

Anders shrugged uncomfortably. 

“Anders.” Nellie leaned forward. “What have you discovered?”

_Two things, actually. I somehow prevented both Ty and Axl from having some seriously bad accidents. And then Michelle mentioned the word guardian angel to them and Mike and now they’re freaking out. But that’s not... the point is, when I was there, after saving Axl, I realised that what I had to do was talk to them. I need to speak to them, Nellie. I have to make my peace with my brothers. And I have to get Mike to quit the guilt trip._

“I see,” Nellie said after a long pause. “So we need to gather them so I can...”

Anders shook his head.

_No. No, I need to talk to them. I need to..._

He ran both hands through his hair.

“Anders.” Nellie’s voice was love. “You want me to summon you so you can speak to them?

_Yes. Yes, I do. I need to. I have to._

“Then let me tell you this first: A summoning is not without risks. I open a portal into another realm, and there’s no telling if it’s only you getting through. And that something might take you over and use you as a Trojan horse.”

Anders swallowed.

“Other than that, things can always go wrong. If the connection somehow breaks while you are being summoned, it will destroy you.”

_Annihilation...?_

He was feeling strangely cold.

“Yes, annihilation. And thirdly, the summoning is not a pleasant sensation. It is, in fact, pure agony for the spirit involved. That’s another risk. Some lose what is left of their minds and turn into something dangerous.” Nellie leaned forward, her voice grave and deep. “Do you still want this?”

_No. Not really. But I have to. I don’t know how... or why... but I just... I know. I have to talk to them._

“Then that is what you will do. No one but you can know what you have to do, Anders. And if you feel this is it, then I won’t say you no. I just wanted you to be aware of the risks.”

Anders nodded and looked at his hands. He was scared shitless, and here he had thought that with being dead you need not be scared anymore because you had died already. But there were things far worse than death, and he was about to face all of them. He was afraid, yes. But he had to. He simply had to.

* * *

Olaf left the next morning to gather the others. Anders had asked for him to bring them all, not only his brothers but Michelle, Stacey and Ingrid, and Gaia and Dawn as well. He knew he had only this one attempt and he needed to make sure he could get it right.

Strangely enough, his earlier fear was replaced by a strange calmness now. He knew what he had to do. He knew that it was time. He wasn’t afraid. Well a bit, maybe, of those things Nellie had talked about, but he was also strangely confident that none of these things would happen.

Sitting on the grass behind the house Anders watched Nellie prepare herself. With the T-shirt and the wide cotton trousers and with those decorated dreadlocks she just looked like a harmless hippie, but Anders had no doubt that she had meant it when she had called herself a witch. Apparently, witches did not necessarily have warty noses. Anders smiled wryly to himself.

The sun was shining, and a mild wind was rustling the leaves in the trees. He could hear birds, and the clucking of the hens. 

But he didn’t feel the warmth of sunshine, he didn’t feel the wind. He couldn’t smell the forest floor, that blend of earth and rotting leaves and needles. He couldn’t smell the pines and he couldn’t smell the smoke of the fire. He tried to remember those smells, but it all made him only more aware of what he had lost. And why he couldn’t go on like this. 

He had no idea what would happen, but whatever it was, he wasn’t scared. He was scared of having to stay like this.

* * *

Shortly after nightfall, he could see several cars come down the gravelled path. Anders slowly got up, and the rest of his nervous agitation vanished and was replaced by a calm sense of peace. 

The preparation for the summoning ritual were short and nothing spectacular, but everyone looked taken aback when Nellie opened the lid of a basket and pulled one of her rabbits out by the ears. She was holding a knife in the other hand.

“Nellie?” Olaf cast a nervous glance at the other Johnsons. “What...”  
“We need the blood,” she said simply. “I’m a witch, not a fairy godmother, and this is one of the reasons witchcraft has somewhat of a bad reputation.”

A few dismayed looks were cast back and forth amongst the assembled people.

“Look.” Nellie lowered the knife and put the rabbit back. She firmly closed the lid. “I need blood. And for the rabbit it’s not going to make any difference if I kill it today or tomorrow. The only difference it makes is if I have rabbit stew tomorrow or the day after. Can we proceed? Or is one of you willing to sacrifice his blood for this?”

When no one managed an answer, she threw up her hands. “Goddess save me! Who is more important here, your brother or a rabbit? At least I don’t sacrifice virgins to make a stronger spirit! Although the virgin part is crap, it’s the human blood that matters, not who it comes from.”

Olaf lifted a hand. “But... would you have to kill a person or is a bit of blood enough?”  
“Yes, a bowl full would be enough. Human blood would also buy him more time and make him stronger so it will be much easier to talk to him. Or for him to talk, as it were. Blood of his kin even more so.”  
“Take some of mine,” Olaf said simply.

Anders shook his head, feeling his heart burn in his chest. Of course the prospect of an animal being killed for this wasn’t a horrifying thought, not when it was meant to be eaten anyway, but the fact that Olaf, and now his brothers as well, were willing to give some of their blood to help him with this touched him deeply. 

It was a fucking shame they had only found out how much they cared about each other after he had died.

There was a fire burning, and all the people he had asked Olaf to bring were standing on one side, and on the other, Nellie had drawn a circle on the ground with salt. She was chanting softly under her breath, in a language Anders had never heard before. Not even the Norse gibberish Olaf used to spew after god ceremonies was anywhere close to this.

Now Nellie emptied the bowl into the circle, soaking the earth with blood. When she stood back, she lifted her arms.

At first, it felt like the tug Anders used to experience when teleporting, and the tugging quickly turned into an irresistible pull. He was dragged forward and then suddenly it felt as if something was grabbing him by the neck and dragging him through boiling water. His vision vanished into a red glare, and his whole existence shrank back into one sensation: that of a bright, burning pain.

To the others, nothing happened at first. But when Nellie lowered her arms, they could hear it; a thin wail, like the whistling of the wind, but it steadily grew in intensity until it had become an ear-piercing, blood-curdling scream of pain. A shadow appeared in the circle. 

Nellie took a step back. Before her, the shadow slowly turned into something more substantial, into a person. A person screaming in white-hot agony.

At that moment Anders’ awareness returned and the burning agony vanished as suddenly as it had come, and the scream died in his throat. It left him breathless and staggering, but he instantly realised that he felt different. He felt... vibrant. Not alive but... he felt so much more than before. His head was still swimming though and his whole body felt like pins and needles, and he needed a certain effort to remain upright while trying to gather his wits back together.

Then he slowly looked up, and saw his brothers look at him; grief-stricken faces, eyes wide and filled with tears. 

“Anders...” Mike whispered, the tears already spilling free. “Anders... oh my god...”

Anders swallowed hard and tried to smile. “Hey, Mikkel,” he said.


	10. With a Satisfied Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you have a tendency to get emotional when reading, you probably shouldn't read this at work.  
> Thank you for sticking with me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [With A satisfied Mind](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TpfkLDLE_pU)

Looking at his brothers Anders wasn’t thinking, and he took a step forward only to bump into the edge of the circle like some idiot walking into a glass door. It didn’t hurt, but it was unpleasant, a bit like bit like touching a weak electric fence. When he touched the invisible wall in mild confusion again, ignoring the sting, his handprint hung in the air for a second as an image of pale, yellowish light.

He looked at Nellie who was staring at him with narrowed eyes and her lips a tight line.

“Nellie, can I get out of here?”  
“Technically, you can,” she replied.  
“And non-technically?”  
“I won’t open the circle.”

Anders swallowed hard and looked at his brothers. They all stared at him with grief-stricken faces and all of them were silently crying. He wanted to talk to them and sure, he could do that from where he stood. But he wanted to be closer to them. Just one last time.

“Please, Nellie, I have to get out of here.”  
“I have no way of telling if you are the real Anders or not.”  
“What?”  
“You could be anyone, or anything, using Anders’s form,” the witch replied. 

The way she was looking at Anders and held out the knife, she certainly didn’t look like a harmless hippie anymore. Her eyes had changed, not in colour, but in intensity. She was a witch all right. 

“Is there some way I could convince you?” Anders began to feel uneasy.  
“You can speak to your brothers from the circle.”  
Anders shook his head. “Please, can’t you let me out?”

Nellie took a few steps towards the circle until she was standing directly in front of him. “Give me a sign that you are real.”  
“What the fucking fuck?”

“He sure sounds like Anders,” Ty muttered softly with a sad and wistful smile. 

Anders was tempted to flip him a bird. 

“Think of something,” Nellie said.

Anders was tempted to flip her a bird, too. But he needed to convince her and for some reason, she seemed to want him to convince her. But other than being his usual self, which was being a rude prick when stressed, he couldn’t think of anything.

Well.

With a small smile, Anders extended one finger and with a slow, decisive move, drew a crude cock and balls into the wall of the circle. It hovered there for a second before it vanished again.

“That is our Anders, all right,” Olaf said drily and wiped his eyes.

A small, crooked smile appeared on Nellie’s face and she went down into a crouch. She cut into the circle with the knife and scraped a portion of the salt to one side, and then she straightened up and gave Anders a nod.

Anders rolled his shoulders and cautiously, set one foot outside the circle. Then he took a step, and there he was. 

Then he noticed Mike again who had taken a step forward too. His face was a grimace of pain and he reached for his brother with a shaking hand.

Anders felt the tears burn in his own eyes as he took a step forward himself, lifting his own arm as well.

“Mikkel...”  
“Andy...” It was a hoarse and toneless whisper.

And to Anders’s surprise, their fingers touched. They touched. Thanks to the blood that was not from a rabbit but his own brothers, the agony of having been summoned had been worth it; Anders had turned out solid enough to touch.

Mike was staring at their touching fingers with a hoarse choking sound. And simultaneously both of them took another step forward and embraced. Mike burst into painful, helpless sobs, and Anders gave up fighting his tears as well. They both clamped their arm around each other and held on for dear life.

“God, Anders I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” Mike sobbed into Anders’s shoulder. “Fuck, Andy I’m so sorry... I’m so sorry for everything...”  
“Mike, it’s okay...”  
“No it’s not...” Mike lessened his grip and leaned back. “Nothing is okay...” His voice was so hoarse it sounded painful. “I should’ve taken care of you and instead I only blamed you. I’ve let you down. So many times I’ve let you down... I’m so sorry...”

After wiping a hand down his face, Anders shook his head with a sad smile. “You know what, Mikkel? You’re right. You should have, but you didn’t. You’re sorry... and I’m just glad you finally acknowledged it. That’s all I ask of you. It’s all I ever wanted. To hear that it wasn’t really my fault.”  
Tears streaming down his cheeks, Mike could only shake his head. “I’m so fucking sorry, Andy...”  
“I know.” Anders tried to swallow the lump in his throat but it refused to budge. “I know. Thank you for finally acknowledging it.”  
Mike looked at him in silence and with burning eyes. 

Anders closed his arms around his older brother’s shoulders, blinking his tears away. “But you’re not responsible for my death,” he said firmly. “That I was hit by a car wasn’t your fault.”  
“But I threw you out!” Mike’s voice broke on the last word and he wiped his face with his forearm with a sob. “If I hadn’t been such an asshole about something that wasn’t your fault... Christ, Andy, you’d still be alive!”

“Do you think so?” Anders asked gently. “I wasn’t watching where I was going, you know. She was texting and speeding. I was about to leave anyway and... Mike, it’s possible that... no. That was it, Mike. It was my time. It wasn’t your fault that I died that day. And I need you to believe that.”  
Mike mutely shook his head.  
“Mikkel...” Shaking his head, Anders increased the pressure of his fingers. “That car was a bullet with my name on it. Don’t ask me how I know, I just do. And I’m not lying, where I am now, I’ve got no reason to. Not anymore. I need you to believe that.”

“Andy...” Mike shook his head again. “If I only...”  
“Mike, that... that’s of no use. I understand that you... that you have your regrets. So do I. I’m thinking about things I should’ve done or said. Things I should not have done or said. I can’t undo or unsay anything but I can tell you now: It wasn’t your fault I died. It was my time to go. You having thrown me out as I was about to go anyway doesn’t make a difference. It never did. And another thing I can say now is this: You’re my brother, Mike. And we need to forgive each other.”  
Mike was still shaking his head. “Christ, Andy...” He sobbed. “I can’t even...”  
“Just say it.” Anders held Mike’s gaze. “I need to hear it, Mike.”

“I’m sorry...” Another sob. “Anders I...” He broke off, wiped his face and in the end, after a deep, raspy breath, he finally met Anders’s eyes for the first time. “Please forgive me,” he choked out.

Anders closed his arm around Mike’s shoulders and Mike returned the embrace. Both men were crying openly now. 

“It’s okay, Mike. I can... I can forgive you. But you need to forgive yourself as well. You gotta let me go, Mikkel.”  
“Andy,” Mike sobbed into Anders’s shoulder. “Andy I don’t want you to go...”  
“I’ve been long gone already.” Anders leaned back and wiped the back of his hand across his eyes. “You lost me long ago. And now you have to let go. You have to stop pretending I’ll be back when you fill that glass. You can keep it as a memory, if you like. But it can’t be more than that. You have to let me go.”

They both looked at each other for a long moment, tears spilling down their cheeks. 

“I’ll miss you,” Mike finally whispered. “I’ll miss you terribly.”  
“You know...” Anders shook his head with a wistful smile. “I’d like to say that too, but the truth is I don’t know if I will.”

They were holding each other’s hands now.

“Bye, Andy,” Mike whispered huskily. “Good bye, little brother. I’ll miss you, but... I know. I have to let go. So... bye. Go in peace, Anders.” He let go of Anders’s hands. “Good bye.”

Both of them tried to smile, but then Nellie’s voice, low and gentle, disturbed the silence.

“Anders...”

Anders turned to face her, and then into the direction she was pointing at. 

In the circle on the other side of the fire, an orb of pale golden light had appeared. 

“It is time,” she said.

With a nod and a smile, Anders turned to face his brothers again. “Well. This is it.” Then he took a few steps forward, and he started with Stacey.

“Bye, Stacey. Take care of yourself.”  
“Bye, Anders.” She slung both arms around him and as she leaned back, she kissed his lips before letting go. Anders smiled warmly and shook his head. She didn’t even bother wiping her eyes.

Ingrid embraced him as firmly as she could, crying freely. She cradled Anders’s face in both hands. “Bye, Anders.”  
“Bye, Ingrid. Take care of Olaf for me, will you?”  
She nodded and pulled out a tissue to wipe her eyes.

Olaf was next, and he flung his arms around Anders with a sob. “God, Anders, I’ll miss you... I’ll miss you so much. Life will never be the same without you taking the piss and making crude jokes. I’m so sorry I didn’t... that I wasn’t there when you needed me...”  
Anders smiled at him through his own tears after stepping back. “You just gotta make the crude jokes yourself, you old fart. And take care of what you smoke.”  
“Will do,” Olaf rasped. 

Anders patted his arm and after wiping his face again, took a few steps and looked at Gaia. She was crying into her hands.

“Gaia, babe.” Anders took her hands in his and gently pulled them away from her face. “Gaia, please look at me.”  
She did so, but with great difficulty.  
“You gotta stop blaming yourself. You had no control over what you were doing. Idun had just been torn away from her Bragi, and she would have used all her strength to come back to him. It wasn’t your fault.”  
“It wasn’t yours, either,” Gaia whispered back. “I’m sorry.”  
“I’m sorry, too.” 

To his surprise, Gaia embraced him, and he tightened his arms around her. “Good bye, Gaia. I know you’re not with Axl anymore, but you can take care of him as a friend, too, yes?”  
“I will.” Gaia let go of him and made an attempt at a smile. “Bye, Anders.”

Michelle tried to keep a brave face. “You know, when I said those things about your dick?”  
Anders gave her a crooked smile.  
“It wasn’t true...” She burst into tears.  
Pulling her into a firm hug, Anders chuckled softly. “I knew that. You could lie afterwards, but I heard the sounds you made on the way.”  
“Oh god, Anders... I miss you, you crude little asshole.”  
“You’re just the same snippy little bitch that you always were, don’t you?”  
“Fuck you...” She croaked. “And now fuck off.”  
“Bye.” He smiled, and Michelle eventually smiled back.  
“Good bye Anders.”

Anders walked on, coming to halt in front of Dawn. She was sobbing so hard she was shaking. 

“Oh Dawnsie...” Anders embraced her and she closed her arms around him as well. “Dawnsie, my Dawnsie... You were the best ever to put up with all of my shit.”  
“I didn’t have a choice now,” Dawn said, trying to calm her voice with meagre success. “Since you used the Bragi thing to make me stay.”  
“I never did,” Anders said and stepped back. “I used it to tell you that I couldn’t do without you and how much I depend on you.”  
Dawn shook her head and tried to smile. “You did, didn’t you. But to be honest, you were a bit taxing as a boss at times.”  
“Sorry for giving you such a hard time.” Anders smiled at her. “But now you’re the boss, and you’re doing a splendid job of it. Just do me a favour, yes? Take that picture down. Or put it somewhere else. I’m not looking over your shoulder. I never have, and I never wanted to.”  
Dawn bit her lips and nodded. 

“Bye Dawnsie. Don’t let Ty go. You and he, you’re the best that ever happened to each other.”  
“I won’t.” Dawn smiled at him through her tears. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of him.” She took a deep, shaky breath. “Bye, Anders.”

Axl was looking down at him, his face wet with tears. They were dripping down his chin and left wet spots on his shirt.

“Baby brother,” Anders said softly. “Something good came out of this, you know?” He reached up and touched the side of Axl’s face and the scratch that had just scabbed over.  
“But you shouldn’t have to die for this!”  
“I didn’t die for it, you egg. I was dead already and if I hadn’t been, you’d be in hospital now with a shattered face.”  
“I don’t care. I’d rather have a shattered face if I’d still have you!”  
Anders shook his head again. The tears were back, Christ, there was no end to them. “It’s not going to happen, Axl. Nothing will bring me back. You gotta let me go.”

Anders stepped forward, and they embraced. Axl enveloped him in a bear hug that would have squeezed all breath out of him in other circumstances. As it was, he just held on until Axl was finally able to let go. He swallowed hard, and with another sob, he finally nodded. “Bye, Anders. I’ll miss you.”

Ty embraced him silently, and while he was shedding enough tears for two, he did so without making a sound. 

“I’m so sorry for taking the piss out of you about being gay, you know? That was such a dick move.”  
“It was,” Ty muttered back, his face buried into Anders’s shoulder. “But it doesn’t matter anymore. I’d let you call me gay ten times a day and laugh about it.”  
Anders leaned back. “I would, if I could. Your face was always priceless when I did it.” He wiped his face. “Still shouldn’t have done it, though.”  
“No.” Ty shook his head with a sad smile. “No, you shouldn’t. But that was just you. A crude little prick.”  
“Sorry.”  
“It’s okay. It doesn’t matter anymore.” Then he embraced Anders one more time. “Bye, Andy. Safe travels.”

And then he stood in front of Mike again.

“This is it, Mikkel.”  
Mike nodded, not bothering with trying to hold back his tears. He was no longer crying in those hoarse, broken and heartbreaking sobs, however. “This is it, Andy.”

They looked at each other for a moment longer before they embraced again. They held on to each other as tightly as they could while rocking back and forth. 

And then, finally, Anders stepped back again. Mike wasn’t the only one who had to let go.  
But he felt calm now. It was time. And he welcomed it.

Anders turned around again and slowly walked towards the light. But as he reached it, he looked back one last time.

“I’m not afraid,” he said softly. “Don’t forget me.”

“Never,” Mike said firmly. “Godspeed, little brother.”

Anders adjusted his tie with a twitch of his head and turned around again.

As he stepped into the light, he felt something small brush his ankles. He looked down, and the kitten looked up at him, lifting its tail. 

_Hey buddy! Did you wait for me?_  
Smiling, he bent down and picked it up to cradle it into his arm.  
_Then let’s go, shall we?_

They watched Anders turn into a dark silhouette in the light, and then he vanished. 

The light vanished as well.

“Bye, Anders,” Mike whispered. “Rest in peace, little brother.”

* * *

The glass was never empty. But it was a memory. Nothing more.

* * *

  
If I had money, I would do things my way  
But little they know that it's so hard to find  
One rich man in ten with a satisfied mind

Money can't buy back your youth when you're old  
A friend when you're lonely, peace to your soul  
The wealthiest person is a pauper at times  
Compared to the man with a satisfied mind

When my life is over and my time has run out  
My friends and my loved ones, I will leave them, no doubt  
But one thing's for certain, when it comes my time  
I'll leave this old world with a satisfied mind

One thing's for certain, when it comes my time  
I'll leave this old world with a satisfied mind

– Jeff Buckley


End file.
